


Solitary Daughter

by xbellonax



Series: The Inevitability of Character in Divine Destiny [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xbellonax/pseuds/xbellonax
Summary: What if Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange had had a daughter during the first war, who had to grow up without her parents, living among the winners of the war as a child of the losing side? This is the story of Cassandra Lestrange, a girl with the fierceness of her mother and the determination of her father, lovely and lonely, who belonged only to herself.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Inevitability of Character in Divine Destiny [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569406
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> You might have run into this story before. I deleted it once, when I decided to split Solitary Daughter into seven parts, sepparated according to the events of the Harry Potter books. This is part one. Enjoy.

Cassandra Lestrange's most vivid childhood memory was of her mother. At the time, she'd been a little girl just past toddlerhood, pretty and well-groomed, solemn for her age in the way some children of nobility can be. Her mother Bellatrix, tall and beautiful and powerful, knelt before her on the foyer of their family mansion, holding her daughter's face in her hands.

"Listen to me, Cassandra," her mother had said, "your father and I are going on a very important mission. Uncle Rab is coming with us."

"Is it a mission for the Dark Lord?" Cassandra had asked.

"Yes it is, my love," the older witch had said. "We're going to find him. We're going to find him, and aid him in his glorious return, and all will be well again."

"Am I staying at Aunt Cissy's?" Cassandra had asked.

At that, her mother had sneered. "No. Your aunt is likely at some party filled with filthy muggle lover Ministry members, kissing their feet in thanks for releasing that craven husband of hers. Those miserable traitors. You're to stay here. Your father and I made sure no one can get to you here."

"I'll be alright, mummy. Mimi will be with me," Cassandra had said, referring to the Lestrange house elf that had been tasked with tending to her needs since she'd been born.

"You're right," her mother had agreed, but she'd looked conflicted. "Mimi will take care of you. But you mustn't trust anyone else. Not Narcissa, or anyone who's turned their back to the Dark Lord in his hour of most need. It doesn't matter if they're family, or if you love them." Bellatrix had said intensely, trying to will the young girl into grasping the gravity of her words. "You can't ever believe a traitor of another to be loyal to you, no matter how trustworthy their acts may appear. You can pretend to if they're useful, but you must never ever forget what they are. Do you understand?"

Cassandra had nodded, and Bellatrix had smiled as she rose to her feet, kissing the top of her daughter's head.

Cassandra Lestrange's most vivid memory of her mother, also happened to be the last.

That night, Bellatrix Lestrange, along with her husband Rodolphus Lestrange, her brother-in-law Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr. kidnapped and tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity in a failed attempt to find information about the whereabouts of the Dark Lord, for whom they'd been searching since his defeat, over a year earlier. The four were captured by a team of Aurors shortly after, and in less than a month, all were sent to Azkaban to serve life sentences.

The morning after her parents' capture, young Cassandra Lestrange, alone with her family house-elves, woke up to her home surrounded by Ministry officials, Aurors and members of the press, who were eager to report on the fate of the heiress of two of Britain's most ancient and noble pureblood families, now besmirched by its adult members' heinous acts in service of the fallen Dark Lord Voldemort.

Scared and overwhelmed by the crowd that gathered at the property gates, just outside the borders of the charm that protected the estate from entry by any persons not of Lestrange blood, or without invitation from a Lestrange resident, Cassandra found herself weeping in the arms of her favorite house-elf, her robes wet with tears and snot. For several hours none of them could speak, and all that could be heard in the house was the young girl's sobs.

"This is horrible, horrible, horrible," the house-elf said finally, rocking her Mistress in her lap, trying to soothe the child. "The young Mistress will tell Mimi what she can do to make her better, or Mimi will throw herself in the fireplace!"

"I don't know, Mimi," she said. "I'm afraid."

"Mimi will fight anyone who tries to hurt her Mistress Cassandra, yes she will!" The elf said. There was a loud boom as yet another spell cast by one of the Ministry people trying to gain entry into the property collided against the charm that protected the house, and Cassandra began to sob again. Mimi cried with her, upset at the terrible situation her little Mistress was in. They continued weeping as the house-elf helped the girl bathe and clothe herself, and as she ate the meals prepared for her, and as she was helped into her night clothes and they lay down down to go to sleep holding each other's hand, Cassandra in her bed and Mimi on a large cushion placed on the floor. The moonlight shone through the window, and if anyone had looked into the young Miss Lestrange's bedroom that night, they would've seen two small bodies crying quietly all night long.

It was another seven days interspaced with loud noises and small land tremors caused by spellwork before the Ministry personnel concluded that it would not be possible to brute force their way past the charm restricting access to the Lestangre property without causing the house to collapse in itself, killing the young girl still living in it. By that point, the reporters who'd been at the scene in the first few days had been retasked to cover the trials of Death Eaters being carried out by the Council of Magical Law. Cassandra, Mimi and the two other family house elves, Gibbo and Hux, had watched these developments anxiously from the windows.

From what the young girl could understand from the copies of the Daily Prophet that were still being delivered to the house by owl, she knew her parents were not coming back. She also realized that the people outside the house wanted her, although she did not know what for, and feared what they might do to her once they got her. Her world had only ever consisted of her family and the rather small number of associates their parents had allowed into their home, and now her parents and her godfather were gone, and her mother had warned her not to trust the rest of her family. She didn't know what to do.

On the thirteenth morning since Cassandra had last seen her parents, when she stumbled sleepily from her bedroom into the dining room, beside the copy of the Daily Prophet she found waiting for her at the table alongside her breakfast every day, there was a letter.

The letter had been written in block letters, which was fortunate, since she had not yet learned to read cursive, and was addressed to her, from her aunt Narcissa. Before opening it, Cassandra called for her house-elf, who immediately popped by her side.

"Did Mercurius bring this letter, Mimi?" Cassandra asked, referring to the family owl.

"No, Mistress," the elf said. "The owl that gives the paper to Gibbo every day brought it, and Mimi put it there. Is Mimi a bad elf?"

"No, you're a good elf, Mimi," the child said, and the elf puffed her chest. "It's from Aunt Cissy."

"Is Mistress Cassandra trusting her aunt again?" Mimi said.

"Mummy said we can't never ever trust her. Do we have to trust her to read her letter, Mimi?" The girl asked uncertainly.

"Mimi doesn't think so. If the young Mistress doesn't like what the letter says, Mimi will burn it!" The house-elf replied.

Cassandra opened the envelope and read its content aloud, sounding out the more complicated words like she'd been taught.

> _My dear niece,_
> 
> _I hope this letter finds you well. Your mother, father and uncle Rabastan were unsuccessful in the mission they set out to accomplish, and I fear you will not be able to see them for some time. Your uncle Lucius, your cousin Draco and I have been very worried about you, since we don't know whose care you have been left in. We would like to have you over for tea, to make sure you are well. The floo connection seems to be locked, but I can come fetch you at any time you desire. I wait anxiously for your reply._
> 
> _All my love,_
> 
> _Aunt Narcissa_

Cassandra re-read her aunt's words. Despite her fear, she knew she would have to talk to an adult at some point. She had food, and Mimi, and her books, but a child couldn't live by herself, even if she did have a manor and three house-elves. However, she was aware that the only thing protecting her from the world was the fact that the house wouldn't let anyone in. If she left the house, or allowed her aunt in, they could take her away. Mimi, Gibbo and Hux would fight for her, but they might get hurt and even be killed. If Mimi died, she'd be alone. She wasn't sure she believed her aunt would hurt her, but father had said uncle Lucius was a worthless turncoat who didn't care about anything but his own skin, and Draco was just a baby, so they couldn't possibly be worried about her. That meant her aunt was lying. Of course, her mother had warned her about that.

"Mimi, if I go outside, can they spell me?" She asked.

"Their magic can't go past the gates, Mistress. Just like they can't get in, their magic can't either," Mimi said. Cassandra nodded. She had a plan.

That afternoon, after bathing, putting on her best robes and letting her house-elf braid her hair intricately, Cassandra steeled herself to walk out the door that separated her from the outside world. Her arms and legs were shaking. Mimi had been trying to change her mind from the moment she'd explained what they were going to do.

"It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay," Cassandra said quietly, squeezing Mimi's hand for reassurance, and walked out the door before she lost her nerve.

The two men keeping guard at the outer side of the gates leapt to their feet and drew their wands as soon as they noticed the front door of the Lestrange Manor opening. They blanched at the sight of a little girl walking in their direction. She matched the description of the Lestrange's daughter, but they'd been unsure she was alone in the house, or even alive at all.

As she walked towards the gates, head held high like she'd been taught, Mimi invisible by her side, Cassandra worked to stuff all of her fear, her sadness and the million different emotions she'd been feeling the past nine days into a tiny little box inside her chest, which she hid somewhere dark and secret. She would be fierce like her mother and steady like her father. Even if she was a little girl, she was also a Lestrange. She wouldn't let anyone see her fear.

She stopped walking three steps from the gate, facing the men who were eyeing her warily. She willed herself not to twitch, standing perfectly still and maintaining a neutral expression.

"I am Cassandra Zeta Lestrange, heiress of the Lestrange family and member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black," Cassandra said, like she'd been instructed numerous times by her father. The men stared at her diminutive height for a few seconds, before one of them stepped forward decisively.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, and my associate, Mr. Gawain Robards," the man who'd stepped forward said. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Lestrange." Neither of them bowed, which they should have according to her lessons, but she figured she shouldn't say anything. She had questions she needed to ask, and it wouldn't do well to start out by antagonizing the men she wanted answers from. Adults didn't appreciate being corrected by children.

"Did you fight against the Dark Lord, Mr. Shacklebolt?" She asked, having decided beforehand directness would be the best approach.

"Yes, I did," the man said.

She'd expected that answer.

"Have you ever betrayed anyone?" Cassandra asked. The two men seemed startled by the question, but she had to know in order to obey her mother. She'd read in The Prophet that the Dark Lord had lost the war, so it made sense that the people trying to get her were the ones who'd won. But if they were traitors, she couldn't trust them not to hurt her, even if they gave her their word that they wouldn't. If the man answered yes, she would go back inside and wait for the ones who kept guard at night to arrive, and ask them the same questions.

"I lied to my parents a few times as a kid, to avoid trouble and such," he said measuredly, "and I've lied when I had to in order to do my job, but I've never betrayed anyone."

She had also lied to her parents a few times when she got caught doing something she oughtn't be doing, and those lies hadn't seemed like betrayal to her. Her mother said she could always tell when she was lying, and she seemed more amused than angry whenever Cassandra spun tales of ghosts and gnomes and other magical creatures to explain a broken vase or stained robes. If those had been betrayals, the girl reasoned, surely her mother wouldn't have let her get away with it. She would've been disinherited, like great-aunt Walburga did with her blood traitor son. Being a liar, Cassandra Lestrange concluded, wasn't the same as being a traitor.

"Alright. I got a letter today," she said. "Would you like to see it?"

"Sure," Mr. Shacklebolt said. "Do you have it with you?"

"Mimi," Cassandra called out, and the elf popped between the two men, just like they'd discussed.

"Merlin!" The man introduced as Mr. Robards said, jumping, and Cassandra had to work to not to snicker. Mr. Shacklebolt accepted the letter from the elf, who immediately disappeared again. The two wizards read it, not seeming surprised or bothered by its content.

"I see. Do you know what it says?" Mr. Shacklebolt asked. She nodded. "Would you like us to take you to your aunt?"

Cassandra's eyes narrowed. If they weren't surprised by the letter, it meant they had already known about it. Her aunt really was working with them, and lying to her. Even if she'd already expected it, the betrayal hurt. Her mother had been right about Aunt Cissy.

"No, thank you. But I would like to owl her back," she said calmly. "Would you write the letter for me, Mr. Shacklebolt? I haven't been taught how to yet."

"If I do, will you let us inside?" He asked.

"No," she said. "But if you do, you can ask me a question, and I promise on my magic I'll tell you the truth." It was a vow she'd heard adults make before, and she believed it was meaningful.

"We have a deal, Miss Lestrange," the man answered.

"Mimi," she said, and again the elf popped between the men, this time bringing a writing desk, chair, parchment, quill and ink with her. When Mr. Shacklebolt sat down, the elf made herself invisible and retook her place behind Cassandra.

"Dictate away, Miss Lestrange." He said.

"Dear Aunt Narcissa," she started. In the letter, Cassandra told her aunt she'd read about what happened to her parents and her godfather, and that she was safe and taken care of by the house-elves. She declined her aunt's invitation for tea, saying she was too sad and scared to leave the house.

As she finished her dictation, Cassandra could see the corner of Mr. Shacklebolt's mouth curving up on an amused smile. Good. That meant he understood the meaning of her words. She had sat by her father's side on numerous occasions as he wrote his own letters in his study, marveling at the mysterious and duplicitous world of adults, where one used nice words to communicate angry feelings, and the language she was using had been entirely lifted from her father's communications. Her parents may be gone, but they had given her many gifts throughout her young life, and she was going to use as many of them as she could to keep herself safe.

"Could you summon your elf again, Miss Lestrange, so she can take the letter and your belongings inside?" Mr. Shacklebolt said, and at her call, Mimi did exactly that.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Shacklebolt," Cassandra said.

"You're welcome," he answered. "May I ask you my question now?"

She nodded.

"Is there anyone else in the house with you - perhaps a family friend your parents asked to take care of you?"

"No," she said truthfully. "Only me, Mimi, Hux and Gibbo, our house-elves."

Mr. Shacklebolt accepted her response without comment, but she was not sure he believed her. If he chose to think she was lying, she reasoned, there wasn't much she could do to convince him otherwise. Knowing Mimi would be at the aviary giving the letter to Mercurius for delivery, Cassandra excused herself and walked back into the house.

The answer to her polite defiance came two days later, not by letter, but through a loud booming voice that Cassandra swore could have woken the dead.

"MISS CASSANDRA LESTRANGE, PLEASE COME TO THE GATES. YOUR AUNTS AND A MINISTRY REPRESENTATIVE ARE HERE FOR YOU," the voice shouted.

Mimi immediately popped in front of her, looking frantic. Before the elf could get a word in, Cassandra grabbed her hand, reassuring her.

"It's alright, Mimi. They can't get in and I'm not going out. I'm just going to talk to them," she said. The house elf nodded, calming down. The two of them made their way out of the house, Mimi invisible a step behind her young Mistress.

Narcissa Malfoy stood outside the gates, alongside a square-jawed, slim, serious looking witch and a woman whose appearance, for a moment, made Cassandra's heart skip, due to her resemblance to the girl's mother. They had the same aristocratic face and tall, imposing height. The only obvious differences, she noted, were the woman's hair color, a light brown to Bellatrix's jet black, and a softness in her eyes Cassandra had never seen in her mother's. The girl stood in front of the three women, waiting for an introduction.

"Hello, darling," her aunt Narcissa said. "It's good to see you, you look well. These are Amelia Bones and Andromeda... Tonks. Ms. Bones works for the Ministry of Magic and Mrs. Tonks used to be a member of the Black family, before she married off. We're here to talk about how you've been. We've all been worried about you all alone in the house."

"For the love of Circe, Narcissa," the woman who looked like her mother said, to which her aunt scowled disapprovingly. "I rather think she can handle the truth, if that letter is any indication. Amelia, may I?"

The Ministry witch nodded, and the other woman crouched so she stood at the girl's height, looking her in the eyes. "Hello, Cassandra. My name is Andromeda, and you're my niece. I don't know if you've heard of me, but I'm your mother and Narcissa's sister. I was disowned when I married my husband Ted, because he's a muggleborn. I'm here today with Narcissa because the Ministry has failed in securing you, so they thought you might come voluntarily with one of us."

"You're in the family tapestry by mother's side, but great-aunt Walburga burned your face off," Cassandra replied.

"I bet she did," Andromeda said, smiling. "Do you understand why the Ministry has been trying to get you?"

"I'm a child, and children can't live by themselves," the girl said. She wasn't sure that was their only motive, but she knew it was at least one of them.

"That's right," Andromeda said. "The Ministry thought you'd be more amenable to your aunt Narcissa, since we'd never met, so she got to write to you first. But I'd like to tell you that I've wanted to meet you for a very long time, and it would be a pleasure to have you in my family. I have a daughter a few years older than you, and she's always wanted a sister."

Cassandra looked at her other aunt. "Are you here to ask me to live with you too, aunt Cissy?"

"Yes I am, my darling," the witch replied. "Your uncle Lucius and I are ready to take you in, and would gladly raise you to be the outstanding young lady I've always known you can be, as I'm sure your parents would want."

"My parents are in Azkaban," the girl said. Her aunt nodded gravely. Cassandra didn't know where Azkaban was, but it didn't sound like a place anyone would want to be at. She turned to the Ministry witch. "Ms. Bones, are they ever coming back?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Lestrange, but no. Your parents committed very serious crimes, and they'll spend the rest of their lives paying for them in Azkaban," the witch said seriously, although Cassandra could tell she was trying to be kind. "That's why a decision in regards to your custody must be made. Both your aunts have offered to be your guardian, and the Ministry has concluded that both are fit to assume that role, so I leave that choice up to you. Once you make that choice, I will ask you to allow us access into the property, so your belongings can be packed and we can clear the house of Dark artifacts and other dangerous things. So I ask you, who do you pick to raise you?"

Cassandra pictured her parents, and wished more than ever that they had never left her. Never, never had she felt so alone. She wanted badly to live with the kind aunt she had just met, and would have even been happy once to live with her aunt Narcissa, but she knew that neither could be done now. She couldn't trust Aunt Cissy, and if her mother had never talked about her other sister, Cassandra didn't think she would like her to raise her daughter. She closed her eyes and thought about her options.

"Ms. Bones, if I go with aunt Narcissa, or aunt Andromeda, I have to live with their families," she said. "I don't want to become a Malfoy, or a Tonks. I want to stay in my house, and be a Lestrange."

The witch sighed. "For all that I understand your wishes, child, I cannot abide by them. You must have a guardian. If not your aunts, than another relative. As the last scion of the Lestrange family, this house belongs to you, so you could ask your guardian to move in, but ultimately it would be up to them, as the adult in charge."

"I have a manor, and three house elves. And I can get out, but you can't get in. So it is up to me. I'm not leaving. Grandpa Cygnus can be my guardian, or Great-aunt Walburga, I don't care. I'm going to stay in my house," Cassandra said finally, and grabbed Mimi's hand, the signal for the elf to apparate them into the house.

As eventually reported by The Daily Prophet, the siege of Lestrange Manor lasted for thirty-two days. After failing to remove the charm denying entry in the first couple of weeks, various Ministry workers and close relatives tried to ask, bribe, lie, negotiate and intimidate the young Lestrange heiress into leaving the property and accepting the guardianship of her relatives, to no avail. It wasn't until her grandfather, Cygnus Black III, made a blood vow swearing to raise his granddaughter in her family home, that the child allowed anyone in.


	2. How Long?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every chapter in this story is titled after a Julia Holter song. If you like weird, dazzling chamber pop music, check her out. Or not, it's your choice really.

Cassandra sat down in the empty train compartment, her trunk tucked away neatly beneath her seat. Like every year, she and her grandfather had arrived at platform nine and three quarters early, allowing them to avoid the crowd of late arrivals as well as the scorn Cassandra was used to receiving whenever walking about in public. At thirteen, the girl struck an uncanny resemblance to her infamous mother. With the long black hair, smooth pale skin and delicate but strong facial features that were a mark of the Black family, her looks should've garnered her admiration. Instead, most people's reaction to her appearance fell somewhere between fear and loathing.

Because of that, the young witch both loved and loathed the end of summer holidays. She looked forward to spending time among her peers, the few wizards in Britain who liked or disliked her not based solely on her parentage, but because they had come to know Cassandra Lestrange in her own right. On the other hand, a new school year meant a new slew of first years, who this year would most likely include an eleven year boy whose name made her stomach twist in knots. She took a deep breath, centering herself. If the boy, or anyone else became a problem, she would deal with them.

Hogwarts had no shortage of students with family members who'd been slain by her parents' side of the war, and she was used to spending the first couple months of term in constant vigilance, lest someone decided to settle a score. She'd taken to carrying a bezoar on her person at all times since receiving a box of poisoned candy for Valentine's Day on her first year from an "anonymous admirer", and she had more dueling practice as a third year than most students preparing for their N.E.W.T.S.

Some time later, the door to her compartment slid open, and a familiar face appeared.

"There you are," the boy said, walking in. "How long have you been in here? You're always so bloody early."

"Spares me from having to elbow the riff-raff," Cassandra replied, and the two teenagers hugged warmly in greeting.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Lestrange. If I had to spend one more day in the company of my idiot cousins, I might've stabbed myself in the eye with my wand," the young wizard said, taking the seat opposite his best friend.

"I suppose the brain damage would probably put you at the same intelligence level as the rest of the Puceys. You'd finally belong, Adrian," she said, smiling.

"Perish the thought," the young wizard replied, putting his trunk away in a corner.

The train started moving, and Cassandra turned to the window, watching the station disappear.

Another boy walked in and slid the compartment door shut behind him.

"Hey Adrian, Cassandra."

"Nice to see you, Flint," she said.

"Or shall we address you exclusively as captain now?" Adrian asked cheekily. "Oh great leader, he the possessor of all Quidditch wisdom..."

"Don't even start," the newly-appointed Quidditch captain proclaimed, pointing at Adrian. He threw himself on the seat by younger boy's side. "I've already been approached by six different second-years asking when tryouts are going to be. We're not even in the castle yet!"

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown, Marcus," Cassandra said, chuckling with Adrian at their captain's distress.

"Anyways, I figured I'd sit with the two of you, since people are usually too scared of Lestrange to bother her - no offense, Cassandra."

"None taken," she replied easily.

The trio talked about their summers and their class loads for the upcoming school year as the train sped through the British countryside. After a couple hours, Lee Jordan, a Gryffindor third year, slid back their door and said, "DADA bets, anyone?"

"Not me," Marcus replied.

Cassandra and Adrian looked at each other. This was one of their favorite games.

"Ok," Adrian started. "So, first year the winner was 'forced to flee the castle after trying to kill students in a convoluted plot,' and second year, 'disappeared without clues after Christmas break.' I'm going with… fired for sleeping with a seventh year."

"All right," the budding bookie said, jotting the Slytherin boy's bet down on a piece of parchment, that he held on top of a box in which he deposited the galleon Adrian handed him. Cassandra thought she saw a furry arachnid leg peeking out of the box, but didn't say anything. The boy had probably instructed the animal to protect the galleons collected for the annual wager placed by students on the terrible fate that usually fell upon the wizard hired to be their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Smart. "What about you, Lestrange?"

"I'm putting a galleon on killed by an acromantula in the Forbidden Forest," she said, taking inspiration from Lee's choice in guardian animal.

"Nice. I don't think we got that one yet," Jordan said, looking over the parchment. "Nice doing business with you."

As the door was closed, Cassandra turned to her friend. "Teacher-student affair, Adrian? Really? How pedestrian."

"Acromantula in the Forbidden Forest?" The boy countered.

"What? There's a whole colony of them there. Klaus kept bringing me their dead babies as gifts last year, took me forever to convince him having dead spiders the size of a small dog dropped on me from the sky was not my idea of a nice gift without hurting his feelings," she explained.

Adrian shuddered. "Where is your creepy pet, by the way?"

"What are you, a muggle?" Cassandra chided. "Since he's bonded to me, Klaus is my familiar, not a pet. And he's making his own way to the castle. He'd never forgive me if put him in a cage."

"You mean he'd peck your eyes out," Adrian replied.

"He wouldn't seriously injure me," Cassandra protested. "At most, he might rip some of my hair out. Ravens are brilliant creatures, but they can be terribly temperamental. And you know how vengeful Klaus is, so I'd be careful about insulting him where he might hear you."

"Yeah, we all remember the Weasley incident of '90." Marcus said, and all three teenagers laughed at the memory of the twin Gryffindor pranksters running through the great hall trying to escape the conspiracy of ravens lead by Klaus pursuing the duo, violently pecking at them before Professor McGonagall managed to stun the birds.

"Well, it's not my fault they took my warning about Klaus as a challenge. They had it coming, kidnapping and turning him red and gold like they did. It took days for that spell to wear off," Cassandra said.

"He did try to eat their brother's rat," Marcus said.

"I would've bought him another one," Cassandra said defensively. Honestly, it was a mystery how the rodent had survived so long with all the owls and cats roaming the castle.

"On the subject of Weasleys, can you believe Charles chose not to go pro?" Adrian said.

"Talk about wasted potential," Marcus said, proceeding to go on about the pool of mediocre players Oliver Wood, the new Gryffindor captain, would have to pick his new seeker, and how this year's cup was theirs to lose. Meanwhile, Cassandra and Adrian exchanged amused looks. That was not why Adrian had brought up that particular topic.

Despite their opposite House and familial loyalties, the older Weasley brother had been the star of every single romantic fantasy Cassandra had had since the beginning of second year, when after a Slytherin-Gryffindor quidditch match, shirtless, muscular and sweaty Gryffindor captain Charlie Weasley had shaken her hand and complimented her on her skill as a beater. _'Vicious arm you got there, Lestrange.'_ Those six words had gotten her through endless hours of Binn's dull lectures on the goblin rebellions.

And she wasn't the only one. During the last few months of school before summer holidays, Adrian Pucey had had a sexuality crisis brought about by the realization that his admiration of his fellow quidditch players' physiques wasn't exactly platonic. Charlie Weasley had played a big part in that. He and Cassandra had bonded over the impossibility of acting on their shared crush.

The compartment door slid open yet again; Cassandra scowled, considering if the detention she might get for magically locking it would be worth the peace she and her friends would enjoy for the rest of the ride. At the sight of her little cousin and two of his friends, she decided the answer was yes.

"Cousin," the pale boy said, slightly bowing his head in acknowledgment.

"Draco," Cassandra answered neutrally. She had no animosity towards the boy, seeing him sporadically in events her grandfather thought fit she attend, but she'd found his almost desperate need for approval and easy-to-wound ego tiresome. Seeing her younger cousin spiral whenever someone contradicted his overinflated perception of his family's - and by extension, his own - greatness was an unpleasant experience for someone who'd been forced to grow a skin as thick as dragonhide as a little girl simply to be able to go out in public without being undone by the looks and words grown wizards would throw at her once they recognized her.

"Mother suggested I reach out to you once I was sorted into Slytherin, but I saw no need to wait," he said.

Of course you didn't, Cassandra mused.

"I hardly think there's anything between the train and the Slytherin table one would need advice with," she answered. Draco looked disconcerted for a moment.

"They're saying Harry Potter is in the train, in one of the compartments at the back," the boy said.

"Ooh," she said. The boy-who-lived would certainly be the kind of celebrity her cousin would be interested in and intimidated by, which would most likely cause him to fall back on the arrogant attitude his father used as both a shield and a weapon. Unless Harry Potter was a complete pushover, which would be incongruent with his fame as the only survivor of the killing curse and the reason for the Dark Lord's downfall, there was no chance that meeting would end well. "And you plan on introducing yourself to him?"

"It would be only right that a scion from a pureblood wizarding family offers to help him introduce himself to our society," Draco said, squaring up his shoulders. "No one knows what he's been doing for the past ten years, after all. Who knows what he might've been taught."

"I see," Cassandra replied. If her cousin wanted to embarass himself by assuming that a half-blood wizard whose late family had been murdered by the Dark Lord for opposing his agenda of pureblood supremacy would gladly accept the guidance of a Malfoy, she wasn't going to stop him. "Good luck."

Draco nodded to his cousin, and all three boys retreated, closing the compartment door. Cassandra turned to her best friend.

"So, your cousin's a git," Adrian said. She smiled her assent.

"Do you think he's really in the train… Harry Potter?" Marcus asked.

"The math adds up," She replied simply. The two boys looked at each other, seeming uneasy.

"Does that…" Adrian started. "How does that…" The boy huffed, seemingly unable to voice his thoughts. "I mean he's the reason…"

"My parents picked a side," she interrupted, knowing what her friend was trying to ask her. "And their side lost. I'm not going to look for a rematch."

Both wizards nodded, seemingly accepting her answer. She found herself glad for Flint's natural tendency not to ask too many questions unrelated to Quidditch, and Adrian's restraint in questioning her in front of others. The loss of the war wasn't a subject she allowed herself to dwell on. Whenever her mind strayed in the direction of the reasons that had guided her parents' actions, she immediately redirected her thoughts to the present. They had lived in a world of ideology, but she lived in a world of consequences. And there was nothing to be gained, and a lot to be lost, in antagonizing the boy-who-lived.

It wasn't until they were seated side-by-side at the Slytherin table, waiting for the first years to be sorted that Adrian brought up the topic of their earlier conversation.

"So you're really not bothered by the whole Harry Potter thing?" He whispered to her. "You're not gonna make him your mortal enemy or whatever?"

"My family wasn't arrested until over a year after the end of the war," she whispered back. "They could've done what most of other families did and lied to save their own necks, but they chose to go down with the sinking ship. Potter didn't make that choice for them. So no mortal enemies for me this year." She looked at her friend, who seemed relieved. She would be too, in his place.

Cassandra was barely paying attention to the kids being sorted until Professor McGonagall called out a name that made her stomach drop and her hands go cold and clammy.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

She watched the round-faced boy who she'd never met before trip and fall on his way to the stool, and willed herself to be still. She would show no emotion. She would not feel bad for him. His clumsiness was not her fault. The hat took a long time with him, and every second made her stomach more and more queasy. When it finally declared him a Gryffindor, Cassandra had to make an effort not to let her body sag in relief. At least he wouldn't be in her House. They were two years apart, and not in the same House. Maybe she could avoid him completely. She looked back at the stool when she heard laughter, and watched the boy jog back to return the hat he'd run off wearing. By the love of Merlin. Was he always this… pathetic? 'Not my fault', she chanted in her mind, 'not my fault'.

Cassandra managed to mostly tune out the rest of the ritual, only politely clapping when she heard her cousin being sorted into her House and Harry Potter going to Gryffindor.

That night, as she lay on her bed, she tried to rationalize away her concerns. It didn't matter that the boy who had ended the war that had consumed her parents was in the castle. Or that she might at any time run across the young wizard who had grown up an orphan because her family had tortured his parents to insanity. Or that her squibhead cousin had been sorted into Slytherin. She'd managed two years with no major disasters and minimal life-changing events; she'd manage another one.


	3. Beast Wildest

As the first week of classes passed, Cassandra noticed a marked change in the behavior of the general student population towards her; namely, that no one seemed to be paying any attention to her at all. All everyone was talking about was Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived seemed to be the new celebrity student Hogwarts couldn't get enough of.

"This is brilliant, Klaus!" She said to the raven, who'd come to greet her as soon as she stepped foot outside the castle. The bird was now perched on her right shoulder as she made her way to Professor Silvanus Kettleburn's Care of Magical Creatures classroom, which had been transfigured from Hogwarts' former hippogriff stables, since the magical animals hadn't been bred at the school since the turn of the century. "No one cares about me! I haven't been approached by a single first year asking me if my parents were the ones who killed their uncle during the war or some other nonsense. As if they left me a list of everyone they hurt before being carted off to Azkaban."

The raven cooed in agreement, and Cassandra continued walking to class. Professor Kettleburn was a favorite among students of all Houses, and she was excited to study magical creatures under his tutelage. Her own grandfather was a renowned potion-maker, who insisted that growing the plants and keeping the animals from which the ingredients used in one's potions were harvested was the only way to properly ensure their quality. As a result, after moving into Lestrange Manor to take up the guardianship of his granddaughter when she was five, Cygnus Black III had had the property's aviary and stables upgraded, build a large greenhouse and moved all sorts of magical creatures into the woods that circled the property. Since she was a little girl, Cassandra's time away from her lessons had been occupied by taking care of plants and animals alongside the house-elves. She'd been able to continue her study of plants in Professor Sprout's Herbology class since first year, but it hadn't been until this year that, as a third year student, she'd been able to take Care of Magical Creatures as an elective class.

Klaus' menacing croak brought her out of her musings, and she whipped her head around to see who her familiar was threatening. The Weasley twins, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson apparently had also chosen to take this elective. Right, this was one of the Slytherin-Gryffindor classes. At least her year had been paired with Ravenclaw for Potions, otherwise her Head of House would've been unbearable in his classroom.

"No need to worry, boys," she said to the twins' benefit. "As long as you don't try anything, he won't attack you - unless I say so." She caught the eyes of one of the twins and winked. Both of them smiled widely, but Angelina Johnson scowled at her.

"We assure you, Lestrange, we have no intention of breaking our peace treaty with dear Klaus for now." George, or Fred said.

"We can't let him mangle us again, no matter how much fun it was the first time around," Fred, or George continued. "The female population of Hogwarts might riot against you if our handsome faces were scarred."

"Ah!" Professor Kettleburn, who'd suddenly appeared in front of them said loudly and rather enthusiastically, making the teenagers jump with surprise and Klaus croak in annoyance. "But what are scars but signs of a life well lived, my dears!"

If that was true then the teacher, with only one eye, half an arm and one leg, had to have lived the greatest life out of every wizard she'd ever met.

"Come on in!" He said, guiding the students into his classroom. The teacher turned to her, "I would never turn a familiar away from my classroom, my dear, but I hope you can keep him from eating the flobberworms I have in the back. We're going to need them for next week's class."

"Yes, sir," she said, then turned her head to Klaus. "Did you hear that? No eating the flobberworms. I'll feed you some cheese at dinner if you're good."

The bird bobbed his head down indicating his assent.

Cassandra took a seat besides Cassius Warrington, a Slytherin who'd played as reserve chaser in their House team last year. The boy looked pleased at having her sharing his table, and sat a bit straighter in his seat.

"Welcome, young wizards and witches, to the great world of Magical Creatures!" The professor started, addressing the classroom. "This course was first introduced by Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in 1927, with the goal of teaching students how to feed, maintain, breed and properly treat a wide range of magical creatures."

Cassandra took out her parchment and self-inking quill from her bookbag and started taking down notes.

"Can someone give me an example of a magical creature you've interacted with in your day-to-day lives?" Kettleburn asked.

"Gnomes," one of the Weasleys said.

"Kneazles," another Gryffindor offered.

"House-elves," a Slytherin said.

"Very good, very good. Two points for Gryffindor and one for Slytherin for the answers," the professor continued. "Now, can someone tell me what a gnome has in common with a kneazle, that it doesn't with a house-elf?"

Seeing no one else could answer the question, Cassandra did. "Although all three are magical creatures, gnomes and kneazles are classified as beasts, while house-elves are classified as beings."

"Very good…"

"Cassandra Lestrange," she offered, wincing internally. She never knew how a teacher might react to her last name. Kettleburn did not react at all, much to her relief.

"Five points to Slytherin for Cassandra's answer. In 1811, Minister Grogan Stump settled a long and troubled debate by defining Being as 'any creature that has sufficient intelligence to understand the laws of the magical community and to bear part of the responsibility in shaping those laws'. There are two other recognized classifications of magical creatures other than Beings - Beasts and Spirits. We will study and interact with some of the creatures classified by the Ministry as Beasts. Spirits and Beings are covered by either History of Magic or Defense Against the Dark Arts, depending on the specific creature." The professor paused, waiting for the students to catch up on their notes. "Now, according to Stump's classification of magical creatures, Beasts can be loosely defined as a magical creature that does not have sufficient intelligence to understand the laws of the magic community or help bear part of the responsibility of shaping those laws. Essentially, magical creatures that do not possess sapience. But there are exceptions. Despite being quite intelligent creatures organized in their own societies, centaurs and merpeople both requested to be classified as Beasts, refusing the Being status because they objected to some of the creatures they would have shared that status with, such as hags and vampires. Other creatures such as acromantulas, manticores and sphinxes qualified for Being status based on their capability for intelligent speech, but were not offered that classification, and instead classified as Beasts, because of their extremely violent and occasionally lethal tendencies. Although, if you ever come across a Sphinx, under no circumstance call her a Beast to her face. A friend of mine made that mistake once, and I lost three fingers from my right hand saving that prat. Not that you can tell now!" The professor said merrily, lifting the magical prosthetic that stood in place of his right arm up to the elbow. The class shared an awkward laugh at the joke.

"We've gone over what qualifies a magical creature as a Beast, according to Stump's Classification. There's one other way in which magical creatures are classified that's going to be relevant to our classes, and that is the X Classification." The teacher continued. "Depending on the level of danger they pose to a human being's life, magical creatures are classified on a scale of one to five Xs. Category X creatures, such as horklumps and flobberworms, which we will cover in next week's class, are boring and pose no threat to anyone. Category XX creatures are harmless and may be domesticated; owls are a good example. Category XXX creatures include those that should be no trouble to competent wizards, although I've seen plenty of wizards who'd call themselves competent be bested by a couple of stubborn pixies." The professor said with a chuckle. "To avoid any disasters, the ownership of some category XXX beasts is regulated by the Ministry. So if you want to legally own a fwooper or a cute kneazle come next term, you gotta head down to the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and get yourself a licence. Now, category XXXX is where things start to get hairy. Category XXXX creatures are dangerous, require special knowledge and should only be handled by trained wizards, or under the supervision of one. It also includes creatures that are endangered, or just too difficult to capture, rather than being dangerous per se, like the golden snidget. Category XXXXX creatures are known wizard killers, and are impossible to train or domesticate. Can anyone name a category XXXXX creature for me? Just think of the most dangerous creatures you can think of."

"Nundus?" Warrington offered from her side.

"Yes, very good. 3 points to Slytherin for…"

"Cassius Warrington," the boy answered.

"Cassius' answer. Any other guesses?" The teacher asked.

"Dementors?" Angelina Johnson said.

"Good guess, dementors are in fact known wizard killers and impossible to domesticate. One point for Gryffindor for the good use of logic. But I'm afraid dementors are not considered magical creatures, and thus, do not fall under the X Classification. They're classified as non-beings, although I would personally classify them as scary as hell." Kettleburn said, and the class laughed again.

By the end of class, Cassandra knew she'd made the right choice in electives. Kettleburn was a great teacher, and the material was engaging. She was also taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, both useful in the understanding and mastering of the old rituals now almost exclusively performed by the traditional pureblood families, passed down by family members through generations.

"You were very good," she said to Klaus as she walked out of class and back to the castle. She moved him from her shoulder to her forearm, so she could look at him while talking. "You must be bored by now, so you can fly around and do whatever it is you do at the Forest until dinner. I'll save some cheese for you." She ran her nose affectionately through the raven's feathers, imitating the preening ritual his species used to indicate love and care. The bird ran his beak through her hair in a gesture mirror to hers, and flew away.

The next morning, Adrian sat across from her during breakfast, and Klaus stayed perched on her head, talons resting on her scalp, occasionally bending down to be fed pieces of bacon. She sat ramrod straight, holding her head up as she ate as to not dislodge him. If Mrs. Monterey, the grouchy manners tutor from her childhood, caught wind of how a bird could be used to keep someone from slouching, Cassandra was sure the woman would have little girls all over Great Britain sitting with birds of prey on their heads while they pretend-ate.

"Do you have any idea how creepy you look?" Adrian asked her as she ate another spoonful of porridge, savoring the taste of cinnamon and brown sugar in her tongue.

"Mind how you talk to your betters, Pucey," her little cousin intervened from down the table. She turned her head to him, glaring.

"Thank you, Draco," she said harshly, not thankful at all. "But had I any need of defending, I would've been perfectly capable of doing it myself. Do not presume to intrude my conversations." Klaus cawed from atop her echoing the sentiment, and Draco blushed, turning back to his friends without saying anything else. She'd been told before that being at the receiving end of identical glares from her and an onyx black raven twice the length of her head was an unnerving experience, and apparently the eleven year old Malfoy agreed. She turned back to Adrian, still scowling.

"See what you made me do?" She mouthed at her friend. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Sorry," he said insincerely.

"I'm sure no one who's ever met you doubts your ability to defend yourself, Lestrange," Cassius Warrington, the boy she'd sat by on Care of Magical Creatures said from where he was seating near Adrian. "But for whatever's worth, I think you look beautiful with your raven on you. He was very well-behaved in class yesterday."

She looked at him. Even though the boy had been sitting near her friend, she hadn't noticed him until he spoke up. Now he had a slight blush on his cheeks, but did not twitch under her scrutiny, which counted as a point in his favor. In their two years having classes together, they hadn't spoken much more than a handful of words to each other, only interacting during quidditch training, and in the rare games he'd been taken out of the bench for after another chaser's injury. He was good looking and clean-cut, from a pureblood family, and had never asked her stupid questions about her parents, so she didn't see any harm in accepting his compliment.

"Thank you, Cassius," she said finally, and the boy nodded at her before continuing his breakfast.

Adrian raised an eyebrow at her speculatively, and this time she was the one who rolled her eyes.

"So, what have you got today?" Cassandra asked her friend.

"Divination with the Hufflepuffs." Adrian said.

"What are you taking Divination for?" She scoffed. "Unless you're a Seer, that class is useless. And given you haven't managed to win a single quidditch cup bet in two years, we both know that's not the case."

Besides their annual Defense of The Dark Arts wager, students also ran illegal bets on the outcome of every official quidditch game played during the year's cup, as well as on the overall winner of the Quidditch and House Cup, the later which was won by whoever guessed which House won and by how many points. If quidditch was the official pastime of Hogwarts students, gambling was the unofficial one.

"It's an easy class," Adrian shrugged. "The more O.W.L.s I get, the better my resume looks, and there's no way I could get an O.W.L. in bloody Arithmancy or Ancient Runes"

"Right," Cassandra said. Even if it was an easy O.W.L., Divination was still a rubbish class.

She picked up the paper, which had just been delivered by owl, and looked over the front page. "Ask the teacher if they can divine who broke into Gringotts," she said, showing Adrian the Daily Prophet headline. "I bet the goblins would pay a pretty galleon for that."

"What do you think they were after?" Adrian asked.

"No idea," she answered. "Not gold, though. There are easier places to steal galleons from without risking the wrath of the goblins. They sent a letter to everyone with a vault to their name that day informing nothing had been taken and no other vaults had been breached, and they sounded pissed. My best guess, it was an heirloom or something one of a kind. I wouldn't risk my neck storming Gringotts for anything I could find literally anywhere else. Another thing you can ask your teacher."

Adrian ignored her barb. "What about you? Anything today?" He asked. By a stroke of luck, Slytherin third years had all their core classes scheduled between Monday and Thursday this year, leaving Fridays free, with the exception of a couple electives

"Nothing. I have some assignments to finish but I have no Friday classes, by Circe's merciful hand. So would you, if you were taking Arithmancy or Ancient Runes with me."

Her friend flipped her off, and she laughed.

"All right, see you later, Lestrange. I gotta head off to class," he said, getting up.

Later that day, after she finished her class assignments, bickered with Adrian during lunch and did the meditation exercises that were a part of the Occlumency training her grandfather had insisted her start the summer before her first year at Hogwarts, Cassandra headed to her dorm for a visit from her favorite being, the only one who'd been a part of her life consistently since she was born.

"Mimi," she called out after drawing the curtains around her bed closed, and the house-elf apparated in front of her with a loud crack.

"Oh Mistress!" The elf exclaimed, throwing herself at Cassandra. The witch hugged the elf back. "Mimi missed her Mistress Cassandra so much! Mimi is taking care of all her Mistress' plants and animals like she was told but she misses taking care of her Mistress most of all."

"I miss you too, Mimi. Silence the area around the canopy so no one can hear us, please." Cassandra replied, and had the elf sit down on the bed to chat with her. After they talked about their weeks and she let Mimi intricately braid and magically pin up her hair in a pretty updo, which made the elf unreasonably happy, she handed Mimi a small list of items she'd decided on during the week.

"Would you please bring these items for me from the house, Mimi? It should take an hour or so for everything to be ready, so I'll wait for you here," Cassandra said.

The elf scanned the list, and threw herself at her owner again, this time in tears. "Mistress Cassandra wants Mimi's special chocolate coconut cookies, Mimi knew her Mistress missed her too! Mimi will make the cookies and get the plants and everything her Mistress wants." The elf said, and immediately disappeared with another crack.

A few weeks into her first year, Cassandra had silently cried through the night, overwhelmed by how much she missed her home, and by how hostile some of the other students were towards her. In the following morning, not entirely awake and under the effects of the headache that she usually got after a long crying session, she'd called out for Mimi like she was used to doing at home, asking for the elf to bring her a headache relief potion. When Mimi apparated by her bedside with the potion in her hands, the two had cried at the joy of finding out that unlike wizards, house-elves could apparate in and out of the school. Ever since, she'd gotten used to calling for Mimi a few times a week, occasionally asking her to perform small tasks, much to the elf's delight.

Exactly an hour later, Mimi delivered the items Cassandra had requested. After thanking her elf, the witch gathered some of the items and made her way out of her dorm room.

"Pucey," she called out, nudging the wizard napping on one of the Slytherin common room leather couches with her knee.

"What?" The boy called out sleepily.

"For you," she replied, dropping a box on his stomach. Adrian opened it and sat up once he saw its contents.

"Are these Mimi's?" He asked. When Cassandra said yes, he pretended to swoon. "You magnificent witch. Have I told you how amazing you are lately? These are incredible." The boy said, an entire cookie already in his mouth. She gave him another playful nudge and made her way out of the common room.

Cassandra walked out of the castle to the greenhouse Professor Sprout used as her office. She waited outside, knowing the teacher only closed her door when talking to a student. A few minutes later, Cedric Diggory, a handsome Hufflepuff third year half the girls in Hogwarts seemed to be infantuated with, walked out of the office, putting a book in his bag absent-mindedly. When he looked up and noticed her, his face broke into a brilliant smile.

"Hey!" The Hufflepuff said warmly. Cassandra hesitated, unsure if the wizard was talking to her even if they were the only two people there. The only person who broke into a smile when they saw her was Mimi, and she wasn't even a person. "I'm Cedric," he offered when she didn't reply, seemingly unfazed by her silence. "We have a few classes together."

"Yes, of course. Hello. I'm Cassandra," she answered.

"If you want to talk to Professor Sprout, you can go in. We just finished up," Cedric said, and grabbed the door to hold it open for her.

"Right," Cassandra replied uncertainly. "Thank you."

"No problem," he answered, and smiled again. "It's good seeing you, outside of class."

Cassandra had no idea how to handle this conversation. Slytherins respected her, and some Ravenclaws acknowledged due to her grades, but whenever Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs weren't throwing accusations or hexes her way, they tended to avoid her entirely. She'd never had an interaction this… friendly with anyone outside her House. Or inside her House, as a matter of fact. Slytherins did not do friendly.

"Sure, it's good seeing you too," she tried. "I should head in."

"Of course. Goodbye, Cassandra," the wizard said as she walked into the greenhouse. She was still trying to figure out what their interaction had been about when Professor Sprout noticed her.

"Cassandra! Please, come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?" The older witch asked her from behind her desk.

"Hello, Professor. I wanted to thank you again for the Wiggentree branch you sent me over the summer. It's rooted quite nicely, and I'm expecting it will have grown a bit by the holidays. Grandfather had been trying to procure a sapling for the longest time, but you know how hard those can be to find," Cassandra said.

"Oh, that was no bother at all! I'm always glad to encourage young herbology enthusiasts. I'm glad to hear you've been successful with the planting. The bowtruckles were very hesitant to part with that branch, it took a lot of cajoling and a few fairy eggs to convince them to let me cut it," Sprout said with a chuckle, sounding as if she was fond of the small creatures that were prone to gouging out the eyes of anyone who threatened their home trees. From what Cassandra knew of the witch, she probably was.

"Well, regardless, I brought you a couple tokens of gratitude I believe you'll like," Cassandra said, depositing two boxes on the table.

"Truly, Cassandra, these are completely unnecessary. But if one of those boxes has what I think it does, I won't turn it away."

Most of the Slytherin students were in the habit of sending their favorite teachers small gifts on their birthdays, and Mimi's cookies had been a success with Professor Sprout. The teacher opened the first box, which did, in fact, contain a portion of the sweets, and smiled at her student.

"Well, thank you. I will be enjoying these after dinner tonight."

But it was the other box that contained the gift Cassandra knew would truly please the Herbology teacher. When she opened it, the woman let out a startled gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. "Cassandra! These are…"

"Niffler's Fancy seedlings, yes," the young witch said with a sincere smile. She truly liked the teacher, who'd been open and nonjudgmental towards her from her first year, and would let her help out in the greenhouses after the afternoon classes ended, whenever Cassandra needed a distraction, or to feel close to home for a while.

"But these are so rare," Sprout said, holding the box to her chest. Cassandra figured the witch would hesitate to accept the gift at first, but with how passionate she was about plants, specially the rare magical ones, Cassandra suspected she would have to fight the woman for the seedlings of the rare copper-colored plant if she truly wanted them back.

"Yes, that's why I chose them," Cassandra answered. "It would be meaningless to give you a plant you already grow here, and Merlin knows the list of specimens you don't have is a short one. Grandfather is interested in studying the potential uses of Niffler's Fancy in potions, so he had a shipment of seedlings delivered during the summer. I saved those for you."

"This is so exciting!" Sprout cried. "I was a student the last time I even saw one of these. Their leaves look so pretty when they're bigger. Oh and the color, it's going to look so nice in the Hufflepuff common room."

"I'm glad you like it, Professor," Cassandra said. "I should go. Thank you again, and have a nice evening."

"Oh thank you, my girl. These are wonderful gifts. If you ever need any other specimen for your greenhouse, just let me know."

Cassandra nodded at the teacher as she made her way to the door. She froze in shock when she opened it and saw who'd been waiting outside for their turn to talk to the Herbology teacher. Standing in front of her was small, awkward Neville Longbottom, holding a copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ to his chest like a child might hold a favorite stuffed animal. They stared at each other for a while, until Cassandra noticed the boy's entire body was trembling. When she opened her mouth to say something, he took off running.


	4. Silhouette

"All right, spit it out," Adrian said, turning his head to her. They were laying in the grass under the shade of a tree, watching Klaus fly lazy circles in the sky above them.

"Spit what out?" Cassandra asked without looking at the wizard.

"Whatever it is that's been bothering you," Adrian said, elbowing her side. "I wasn't gonna say anything because I know how much you hate people butting in your business, but it's been two weeks, and I'm tired of you being a bitch."

"Well I'm not the one following you around, so feel free to leave me alone if I'm really such a bitch," Cassandra snapped back at her friend. When he didn't say anything, she sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. That was unnecessary."

"And bitchy," Adrian added.

"And bitchy, yes," she agreed.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," he said, nudging her foot with his. "You know I won't tell anyone, and I'll only judge you a little bit."

"You're such a witch, Pucey, wanting to talk about feelings," Cassandra said. She turned her head to look at her friend, who was still looking at her patiently. "Do you figure it's because of all the times your mother dressed you up as a girl when you were a baby?"

This time, his elbow came down on her side hard.

"I've no idea," Adrian said. "But when my parents find out I'm queer, that's for sure what I'm blaming it on."

The two friends laughed. Cassandra sighed again, hesitant to talk about what had been bothering her. Adrian was the only person she talked about her personal issues with, and still, there was a lot she kept from him. It had been ingrained in her mind, since she was a little girl, that trusting other people was not safe. She plucked at one of the smaller things that had been occupying her mind in the past couple of weeks.

"What do you think Warrington wants from me?" She said.

"That's what's been bothering you?" Adrian asked, skeptical.

"Not really. But it's what I want to talk about right now," Cassandra answered.

"All right," the wizard said, looking back at the sky. "He clearly wants to snog you. Maybe feel you up under your shirt if you let him."

Cassandra scrunched her nose up. "I hate that term, snogging. It sounds so stupid."

"Fine," Adrian replied. "He wants to kiss you senseless. And then run back to his dorm and rub one off at the thought that you might let him go any further."

Cassandra slapped his chest with the back of her hand halfheartedly. "Merlin, Adrian, you're so crass."

Adrian shrugged. "He's a guy. That's how guys think."

"I get that," she said. "But why me?"

"Come on, Lestrange. You know what you look like," Adrian said.

"I look like my mother," Cassandra replied.

"Maybe you do. But just because your mother was evil, doesn't mean she wasn't hot," he said.

"Is evil," she said quietly. "She's not dead."

"I-" Adrian started hesitantly, not knowing what to say to that. Cassandra shook her head, and he closed his mouth.

"Why now though?" The girl continued. "I looked the same last year, and the year before, and you're the only boy who's ever approached me, and we both know that's not because of how attracted you were my good looks."

"First of all, you're not particularly approachable. You showed up for our first year with a raven who glares at anyone who even looks at you, and attacks on command. And second and most importantly, you didn't have those boobs last year," Adrian replied, pointing at her chest. When Cassandra looked at him crossly, he scoffed. "It's true, you didn't. Boobs are a game changer for straight guys. And just because they don't do anything for me, doesn't mean I haven't noticed them. I'm not blind, and neither is Warrington."

"Fine," Cassandra said. "If that's true, then guys are somehow even more stupid than I thought. For two years everyone treats me like I'm a boggart, then I grow breasts and all of a sudden it doesn't matter that my parents are Death Eaters doing life in Azkaban? Really, that's all it takes? Even Diggory is being nice to me."

"Cedric Diggory?" Adrian asked, his eyebrows raised.

"No, his father. Yes, Cedric. He keeps… smiling at me in class. And saying hi to me in the halls. And the other day, when I forgot to bring my gloves to Herbology, he offered to lend me his so I wouldn't have to use one of the old gross spares Sprout keeps in her office, remember?" Cassandra said.

"Oh right," Adrian chuckled. "And you told him to mind his business."

"As you aptly pointed out, I haven't been in the best of moods lately," Cassandra said.

Adrian sat up, and looked at her seriously. "Not that this applies to Diggory, being a Hufflepuff and all, but you know to some people, specially in our House, your parents being Death Eaters is a positive, not a negative thing. Their families might have bailed on you-know-who after the war ended, but it doesn't mean they stopped believing in all the pureblood stuff. And you're sacred twenty-eight. The last heiress of a sacred twenty-eight family. That might not have mattered much to a bunch of eleven year old boys, but it sure will matter more and more the older we get. And it doesn't hurt that you're bloody gorgeous."

"I'm not doing that," Cassandra said angrily, sitting up as well. "I am not marrying someone whose family tucked their tail between their legs and begged the Ministry for forgiveness after the war, lying through their teeth about what they did and what they believed. I'm not saying I agree with what my parents did, but at least they were loyal to their cause. Everything they said, about pureblood superiority and how they would do anything for the Dark Lord, they meant it. Even after he disappeared, they never stopped looking, and when they were caught they didn't make up some story about being bewitched. They owned up to it."

"They're in Azkaban," Adrian said gently.

"As should all their friends be. As should Draco's father, and bloody Professor Snape. If you had any idea the stuff they did, Adrian. I read the transcripts of the Death Eater trials. My parents', uncle Rab's, Karkaroff's, all of them. I asked grandfather if he could get them for me when I was younger, and he did. They were all proud to wear the masks and kill muggles when it was convenient, but the second the war was lost the whole bloody lot ran and hid like rats. If they really regretted what they did, it would be one thing, but they don't. Snape walks around treating everyone who isn't a Slytherin like scum, and everyone says he won't stop tormenting Longbottom and Potter. Why do you think that is? At least my family is paying for what they did. Meanwhile my cousin and his stupid friends go around parroting the nonsense their parents tell them about muggleborns. The same parents who denied ever agreeing with what the Dark Lord was doing," Cassandra finished.

"So this is what's been bothering you," her friend said.

"Of course it is," she huffed. "I was happy enough to have the spotlight taken away from me by Potter, but I ran into Neville Longbottom outside Sprout's office, and he almost burst into tears. He was shaking, Adrian. And when I tried to say something he took off running. I have made ignoring what my parents did into a bloody art, but it's a lot harder when the consequences of their actions is sitting in the Great Hall with me, and being bullied by my squibhead cousin."

"Cassandra, listen to me. What your parents did to his, it's not on you. You were what, four, five? It's not like they asked for your opinion before they did it," Adrian said.

Sensing his witch's distress, Klaus had flown down and was now perched on her lap, and Cassandra was running her fingers over his feathers to calm herself down. They had sit far away from the castle, almost at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, but she still didn't want anyone to see her having an emotional outburst.

"I know that," she said. "Rationally, I do. It's what I tell myself every time I think about it."

"Does it help?" Adrian asked.

"A bit. Then I think about what a mess Longbottom is, and it makes me want to throw myself from the Astronomy tower," Cassandra answered.

Adrian looked at her determinately, then got up and wiped the grass from his pants. "Come on," he said, extending his hand to his best friend and helping her get up. "I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?" She asked.

"The kind that will make you feel better, even if just for today," he replied.

Knowing from experience that Adrian's ideas were always entertaining, even when they ended horribly, Cassandra followed him into the castle.

"Cosy spot you got here, Lestrange," one of the Weasley twins said as the two boys squeezed their way into the small alcove Cassandra and Adrian had been waiting for them in.

"I think if we're going to be this close to each other, you can call me by my first name," she said, as one of the twins bumped into her.

"Sorry," the boy said. "So," he continued.

"Why are we here?" His brother finished.

"As much as I hate to admit it as a Slytherin, no one knows their way around the castle better than the two of you," Adrian said.

The two Gryffindors smiled. "You're right about that."

"We need a place we can go to tonight, where we can make a racket without anyone noticing," Adrian continued. "Somewhere private, and obviously bigger than this."

"I can't believe you two lovebirds would come to us looking for a place to snog," the twin standing against a wall in front of Cassandra said, jesting. With her patience running thin, she decided to test out the theory Adrian had offered about her looks. She took a step forward, bringing her body close to the boy's and smiled, looking him in the eyes as if they were the only two people pressed closely in the small space.

"If that's what we wanted a place for, Weasley, I think right here would be perfect, don't you think?" She asked, pushing her right leg forward, resting her knee against the wall between the wizard's legs. Their bodies weren't touching anywhere, but they were standing so close Cassandra felt it when he shivered. "It's small, and dark and private. We could do a lot here without anyone noticing."

The boy was looking at Cassandra so intensely that he jumped when his brother made a noise clearing his throat. "Not - not looking for a place to snog, got it," he said.

"She's had a shitty couple of weeks, and we want a place where we can get sloshed and she can break some stuff," Adrian intervened.

"It's how I decompress," Cassandra shrugged, taking a step back.

"You have alcohol?" The Weasley standing in front of Adrian asked, perking up. "How did you get it into the castle? Who bought it for you?

"Why would I tell you that?" Cassandra said. "I can't bribe you with alcohol if you can get it yourselves, can I? Give us a place, and you get a bottle of firewhisky."

"Two bottles," the boy replied.

"One bottle of Blishen's, or two bottles of the cheap off-brand stuff. Your choice," She insisted.

"Fine. One bottle. And we go with you tonight."

"Why?" She asked.

"Because getting sloshed and breaking stuff with you sounds like a tremendous time, Cassandra," the Weasley in front of her said, grinning. "I'm Fred, by the way. If we're going to be this close to each other, you can call me by my first name too."

That night, after dinner, Cassandra found herself in the Shrieking Shack with Adrian and the two Weasleys. Once the boys had told her their destination, she'd gone to her dorm room and called for Mimi, giving the house-elf another list of items to be delivered to the abandoned house in Hogsmeade.

"Okay, Cassie," Fred said drunkenly from the floor, where he was laying down shirtless. Cassandra was sitting on his lap, painstakingly drawing a giant version the Slytherin crest on his naked chest with permanent magical marker. "You have got to tell us how you got this stuff in here."

The inebriated witch giggled. "I don't have to tell you anything, Fred. And don't call me Cassie."

"Can I call you Cassie?" Adrian asked, throwing an Exploding Snap card at the back of her head.

"Only if I can call you something equi- equally stupid," Cassandra said. She turned to her friend, who was sitting by George Weasley. "What are you guys doing?"

"We already broke everything there was to break," Adrian answered, swaying where he was sitting. "Great idea bringing your bat, by the way."

Cassandra bowed as if accepting a great compliment.

"We should play some Exploding Snap," Adrian suggested.

"Drunk Exploding Snap!" George exclaimed.

"Strip Exploding Snap!" Fred said, abruptly sitting up. Cassandra grabbed his shoulders to avoid falling back from his lap.

"Hey!" She protested.

"Sorry, Cassie," he said, not looking sorry at all. Cassandra suddenly noticed their faces were extremely close. If she moved even a little further, their noses would touch.

"If you think I'm gonna kiss you, Fred Weasley," she said slowly. "You are very, very wrong."

Fred scoffed. "As if I would let you kiss me. I'm a proud lion with a reputation to maintain. I don't go around letting snakes kiss me, no matter how pretty they are."

Cassandra laughed and grabbed the bottle of Firewhisky to take another swig. She passed it to Fred, who repeated the action. "Is it the boobs, Weasley?" She asked. The boy choked at the question, spitting the drink in her face. The room fell silent for a pregnant moment, then all four teenagers started roaring in laughter.

"I can't believe you did that!" Cassandra said, wiping the firewhisky and the tears she'd shed from laughing from her face.

"It was your fault, witch!" Fred protested.

"It was bloody brilliant, that's what it was," George said, still laughing. "My brother spit in Cassandra Lestrange's face, and she hasn't killed him yet."

"She asked me about her boobs!" His twin replied.

"Adrian told me they're the reason guys are nice to me now," Cassandra protested. "I just wanted to know if it's true."

She made her way to her friend on all fours, too drunk to trust herself to get up and walk without falling. She noticed both Weasleys looking at her ass in the process. _'Not just the boobs then,'_ she thought. She crawled on Adrian's lap, and her friend embraced her while taking a drink.

"I thought you weren't together," Fred said.

"I'm gay," Adrian blurted out. "You can't tell anyone, or my folks will end me," he continued, drunkenly. "Only Cassandra knows. And now you guys know too, I guess."

"That's cool," George said.

"Yeah," Fred confirmed. "We won't tell anyone, mate. You two are good people, for snakes."

"That's good," Cassandra said casually from her friend's lap. She had put her hands around his neck and the boy had his arms around her waist, head resting on her chest. As a matter of fact, he was drooling on her. Turns out, Adrian could fall asleep incredibly quick when drunk. "Because if I find out you two told anyone, I'll hold you down while Klaus pecks your eyes out."

She looked up, and saw that George was looking at her speculatively.

"You would do that, wouldn't you? You're not just saying it." The boy said.

"I would," she nodded. "I don't care about many people, but I do care about Adrian. If you hurt him, I'll hurt you."

Fred smiled. She wasn't expecting a smile. "I get that," he said. "He's like family to you, right? Family looks out for family. You're scary, Cassandra, but you use your powers for good."

"Well, mostly for good. She did have her bird attack us that one time," George said.

"He did that on his own," she said. "Klaus is very smart."

The teenagers fell silent for a moment, all enjoying the pleasant buzz the alcohol had provided.

"It's not the boobs," Fred said after a while.

"What?" Cassandra asked.

"The reason why we're being nice to you. It's not the boobs," Fred continued.

"Not just the boobs," George said, and the brothers chuckled.

"Malfoy could have the nicest rack in the world, and I still wouldn't lift my wand if that little git was on fire," Fred said. "You're a snake, and your parents were… you know. So we didn't have any reason to be nice to you at first, but you were always cool about our jokes. You didn't even try to kill us when we kidnapped your bird."

"Which everyone told us you would," George added.

"So that's the reason why. You're not evil, you just kinda look it. It took us a while to figure that out," Fred concluded. "We can be friends if from now on, if you want."

"I'll think about it," Cassandra said. "I do have a reputation as evil Death Eater spawn to maintain, you know," she grinned, and the Weasley brothers grinned back at her.


	5. Everyday Is an Emergency

"Tell me again why we need to do this at the buttcrack of dawn," Adrian said, walking behind Cassandra. At five thirty in the morning, they had left the castle and set off in the darkness toward the area behind the Quidditch field.

"Arithmancy, Adrian, that's why," Cassandra answered patiently. "Performing a ritual at a mirror hour makes it so the magic and intent being channeled are amplified and reinforced twofold, and I need the boost since I've never performed this one before. 06:06 am is the only time we could do this without risking a detention or being interrupted."

"Fine," Adrian huffed. "Is this it?" He asked, pointing to a small clearing behind the stadium.

Cassandra nodded. "Go ahead lay down like we talked, clothes off. You can leave your underwear on if you want," she instructed.

Adrian obeyed, and laid down in the grassy field with his arms and legs extended, so his body took the form of a pentagram. Cassandra took off her own robes and shoes, leaving on only her nightgown. She walked around her friend, carefully placing a rune on the ground at the end of each of his limbs, and over his head. She had carved the runes herself from the wood of a bloodwood tree, expecting the properties of the magic plant used as an ingredient in blood-replenishing potions to work harmoniously with the healing-focused symbols she'd chosen.

"Why do you need to have your robes off?" Adrian asked. "I thought I was the one being experimented on."

"Rune magic draws power from the earth, the air, everything around us. The caster serves as a conduit, drawing the magic from the runes, and with intent and the right words, gives it a purpose. Ideally I'd do this naked so the magic isn't dispersed through any materials touching my skin, but this is a school. And I don't wanna risk Filch seeing me naked."

"Filch seeing me naked, that's my boggart, called it," Adrian said, and they chuckled. "All right, can you at least cast a warming spell? It's freezing, and the grass is still bloody wet."

"No, that would interfere with the rune magic," she answered.

"Sometimes I hate being your friend," he replied. Cassandra ignored him. She'd agreed to do all his Herbology homework for the term in exchange for his participation in the ritual, and as far as she was concerned, they were square. If she could handle the cold, so could he.

Cassandra called out for Klaus, who'd been watching her from a nearby tree, and informed the bird of what she needed. The raven returned minutes later carrying a rabbit in its talons, which it deposited at his witch's feet. With a severing spell, she removed the head of the animal, and drained its blood in a bowl she'd transfigured from a stone. She walked in another circle around Adrian, dipping her fingers in rabbit blood and painting each rune with it. She kneeled down by Adrian's side, and drew a rune on his forehead in blood. She felt him shivering.

"Do you feel it?" She asked quietly.

"I feel… something," He answered. "Like my skin is buzzing. Is it the magic?"

"Yes," Cassandra said. "It's waiting to be directed."

She placed the bowl of blood down, and checked the time. "It's 06:03. If we're going to do it, it needs to be now. It's going to hurt, but hopefully not for very long. May I?"

They looked at each other, and Adrian nodded.

Cassandra took a deep breath, then lifted her wand, pointing it at his body. " _Diffindo._ "

Adrian cried out as a long, deep gash opened along his chest. He closed his eyes to avoid seeing the blood he felt pouring out of the wound. After a moment, Cassandra started chanting softly. Her hands were hovering above her friend's torso, and she concentrated to channel the magic she could feel emanating from the runes. She closed her eyes and visualized Adrian's flesh knitting itself closed, willing the magic to perform the task. After a few minutes, she felt a wave of what she could only describe as satisfaction coming from the runes, as if the magic was happy to have fulfilled a purpose. She opened her eyes to check her work, but instead of an empty field, in front of her she saw a girl, seemingly frozen in shock. When their gazes locked, the girl let out a blood-curdling scream.

Hours later, Cassandra found herself in the headmaster's office, facing Professor Dumbledore with Adrian and Professor Snape by her side, while the screaming girl, who she now knew was a Ravenclaw Prefect called Penelope Clearwater, stood with Professor Flitwick, her own Head of House.

"Sit down, everyone, please," Dumbledore said. They all did. The headmaster looked at them serenely. "Now, I've heard the story from Miss Clearwater's perspective, as well as from Miss Lestrange's and Mr. Pucey's. From the materials collected from the site, I believe I have a fairly clear understanding of the events. Miss Lestrange, you were performing what I believe to be a healing ritual utilizing rune magic, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Cassandra said.

"Which you, Mr. Pucey, volunteered to participate in, having been made aware of all the steps involved in it beforehand?" Dumbledore continued.

"Yes, sir," Adrian answered.

"And how do you feel, Mr. Pucey? I know Madam Pomfrey looked you over, but are you feeling well?" The headmaster asked.

"Yes, sir," Adrian said. "I feel brilliant. Like I took a double dose of Pepper-up."

"Yes," Dumbledore smiled, "I believe that is the work of Miss Lestrange. Are you particularly interested in healing magic, my dear?"

Cassandra had to stop her eyes from narrowing at the term of endearment coming from a man she was speaking to directly for the first time in her life. "I'm mostly interested in rune magic, sir," she answered. "I understand the use of runes fell out of fashion a long time ago, but some of us still observe the old ways. Professor Babbling assigned an essay on possible uses for the Poetic Edda runes, and I theorized I could incorporate the life-runes in a generic healing ritual by carving them in bloodwood, then having the magic transfer the injuries from the patient to a dead animal. Adrian volunteered to let me test the ritual on him, so I did. And it worked."

"So it did," the headmaster said. "Unfortunately, Miss Clearwater came upon you during her morning run, and not being familiar with this particular branch of magic, was frightened by what I imagine must've been a shocking sight. Is that correct, Miss Clearwater?"

"Ye- yes, sir," The girl answered. "There was blood everywhere, and this rabbit was all... There was a rabbit on the ground without a head, split open. And I couldn't tell if Pucey was alive, there was so much blood."

"Madam Pomfrey said the boy was perfectly fine when he was brought to her," Professor Snape said harshly "If Miss Clearwater hadn't fallen in hysterics, she would've been able to see that for herself. Instead she ran into the Great Hall screaming that one of my students had murdered a boy."

"You can hardly fault the girl, Severus!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "That type of magic…"

"Healing magic?" Snape interrupted.

"There was a torn up rabbit," Penelope insisted. "You don't kill an animal…"

This time, it was Cassandra who interrupted her. "Please! Have you stepped a foot into a Potions classroom since you entered this school? Because if you have, you might have noticed we use ingredients harvested from animals all the time. Bat wings, dragon livers, rat spleens, you name it. Where do you think those come from?"

"Miss Lestrange," Professor Flitwick started, but again, was cut off by the Potions Master.

"Miss Lestrange is correct," Snape said. "Students are instructed to purchase pre-prepared ingredients for their lessons because it would be impractical and time-consuming for them to harvest the items themselves, but if you think no animals have been harmed for the benefit of your magical education, Miss Clearwater, then you're a fool."

"Severus, that's enough," Professor Dumbledore said calmly. "Miss Clearwater reacted the only way she could with the knowledge she had at the time. And even if Miss Lestrange's conduct in procuring the ingredients used on her ritual was above-board, I can hardly condone students experimenting on each other without supervision. The next time you have a hypothesis you want to test out, Miss Lestrange, I insist you talk to a teacher beforehand, so you can do it under proper supervision. The ritual you performed today was a truly impressive and creative display of magic for someone your age, but Mr. Pucey could've been seriously hurt if something had gone differently. But as I see it, no harm befell upon anyone today, and since all misunderstandings have been cleared, I see no reason for anyone to be punished."

But despite the headmaster's lack of punishment, the harm to Cassandra's reputation had already been done. Because of Penelope Clearwater's declaration in the Great Hall during breakfast, all the upper years could talk about was the supposed dark ritual the Lestrange girl had been caught performing by a Prefect. From human sacrifice to necromancy, several theories as to exactly what kind of vile dark magic she was steeping in were shared throughout the castle. Whatever goodwill her behavior in her previous years had earned her previously immediately vanished. As far as the Hogwarts student body was concerned, Cassandra Lestrange was her parents' daughter, and would one day end up in the same place as them. When a troll was found in the dungeons by a teacher during the Halloween feast, it was to her that other students' accusatory stares were directed.

"What would I need a bloody troll for?" She'd muttered to Adrian then. "Flint is already right over there."

Cassandra reacted to her shunning as she'd been taught by her grandfather and tutors all through her childhood - with patrician grace and cold detachment. She wouldn't beg for anybody's approval, she didn't need it. If they wanted to fear her, so be it. At least people tended to respect the things they're afraid of.

Weeks later, Fred Weasley approached her as she did her daily meditation exercises, on a spot at the top of the Astronomy tower.

"There's my favorite necromancer," he said, sitting on the ground by her side in the gangly, haphazard way teenage boys often moved.

"What do you want?" She asked without opening her eyes. Most of the occlumency exercises she'd been instructed to practice consisted of working to clear her mind of superficial thoughts, then creating a detailed sensory barrier to shield the deeper layers of her mind. Her own barrier was a deep, dark, stormy ocean. She focused on vividly picturing the shocking feeling of freezing cold water touching skin, the smell of salt and pungent zing of ozone that comes with sea storms, the frightening and impossibly loud noises made by thunder and violent rushing waves, the darkness of a starless night sky, filled only with heavy clouds. The deeper a legilimens tried to delve into her mind, the deeper and deeper they would swim towards the endless bottom of dark, frigid ocean waters. When her instructor had last tried to invade her mind during her summer lessons, he had declared the experience overwhelmingly unpleasant. Most people just pictured a wall. She hated being interrupted when doing this, which is why she chose the secluded spot she was at to practice. "How did you even find me?"

"Just because we're friends now doesn't mean you get to know all my secrets, Cassie," Fred said.

"Don't call me Cassie," she said, finally opening her eyes. "So, what do you want?"

"Maybe I just want to know how you're doing," he said, exaggeratedly defensive. "Or maybe I want to catch you performing some scary dark magic. Kill anyone for their blood lately?"

Despite herself, Cassandra snorted. "Not today, but it is only five pm. I still have time."

Fred grinned. "So, how are you doing?"

"Fine," she answered.

"You wanna elaborate on that?" The redhead asked.

"Not particularly," Cassandra said.

"Fine," Fred huffed. "Don't complain I didn't try to talk to you later, woman!"

"I won't," she replied easily. "Is this really what you interrupted me for? I'm busy here."

"You were sitting motionless with your eyes closed. I watched you for like five minutes," he said. "I thought you might be taking a nap, but who naps sitting up straight?"

"I was planning out the ways I'm going to eliminate all the muggleborns in this school," Cassandra said casually.

"Really?" Fred asked.

"No, but that's what they say of me anyways, isn't it? Dark witch Cassandra, just like her dark parents. Maybe I should give them a real reason to think that." She answered in the same casual tone.

"Look," Fred said sheepishly, "that's kind of what I'm here about. Penelope Clearwater, the girl who-"

"Screamed to the entire Great Hall that I'd murdered my best friend? I know who she is," Cassandra ended.

"Yeah, that one. She's friends with my brother Percy and she, uh, she wants to apologise to you," Fred said.

"Why now? It's been over a month," she asked.

"Well yeah. The thing is, apparently she can't get out of the castle without being followed by a bunch of ravens? They haven't attacked her or anything but they keep, and I quote, following her and croaking at her ominously. And she thinks you may have something to do with that, because of, you know, because of Klaus," Fred said.

"So let me get this straight," Cassandra said, to witch Fred flinched. "The girl who single-handedly managed to turn every single student in this school back against me after I worked for years to try and dispel the prejudiced notions they had against me because of my parents wants to apologise to me, not because she feels regretful, but because she can't stand being hated by a few corvids?"

"Yes?" Fred tried. "Look, she's a muggleborn. The whole rabbit thing really freaked her out. They're not used to that kind of stuff."

"You know, this is why purebloods hate them," Cassandra said. When Fred looked confused, she elaborated. "Muggleborns. Do you know why rune magic and the type of ritual I was performing stopped being widely used by wizards in Britain? Because uneducated muggleborns like her couldn't help but bring their silly made up judeo-christian notions into our world, and saw any magic that didn't involve wand waving as dark. Just because an animal is used in a ritual, suddenly it's dark magic? That rabbit felt no pain. Klaus brought it to me alive and I severed its head with a spell. It took a fraction of a second for it to die, which is likely a much quicker death than it would have found in the wild. I performed effective healing magic, the kind most wizards wouldn't be able to unless they were Healer apprentices, as a third year. And it's not some impossible feat of magic either, with the proper instruction I figure a lot of wizards our age would be able to do it. But most wizards don't have that knowledge, because of people like your brother's friend."

"Look, I get it," Fred said. "I get you're frustrated. But there are potions for that kind of stuff now. Spells and-"

"What if you're stuck somewhere without access to a potion?" Cassandra asked. "With no Healer around? And George is hurt and bleeding out. What do you do? Healing spells are very advanced magic. We don't learn them at school."

"I don't know. I could apparate us away?" Fred said.

"Side-along apparating an injured person almost always results in deadly splinching. Only very powerful wizards can do it without causing further harm. You know what you'd do? You'd probably sit there and cry as you watched your brother die." Cassandra said matter-of-factly.

"Hey!" Fred protested.

"It's the truth, Weasley. You would, because you do not have the knowledge to be able to save someone in that situation. Because that knowledge simply isn't accessible anymore. I mean, people study Ancient Runes as a relic from another time, oblivious to the fact that they can still be used as the foundation of incredible rituals. I doubt even Professor Babbling practices much of it, even though she teaches the bloody subject. Rune magic is the most ancient, most powerful form of magic there is, that almost no one uses anymore. But I do. I do because I chose to explore the knowledge that has been passed down through generations by my family, because we didn't bow to the whims of muggleborns."

"Your family also believed in killing those muggleborns," Fred said.

"Whatever," Cassandra said sullenly. "You can tell Clearwater I have no intention of killing her, but I won't accept her self-serving apology."

"Why not?" Fred asked.

"What do I gain by accepting it?" Cassandra asked. "I'll know she doesn't mean it, and is only doing it because she's spooked by a few birds - which, by the way, is Klaus' doing, not mine. The only person who'll benefit from it is her. She'll get to clear her conscience while still believing she's in the right. I hope those birds shit on her head."

Fred sighed, and then chuckled. "You're a piece of work Cassie, you know that? But somehow I still like you."

"It's the boobs," Cassandra answered.

"And I haven't even gotten to see them yet," Fred said, and laughed when the witch flipped him off.


	6. Hello Stranger

The first Quidditch match of the season had come and gone. On a freezing cold Sunday morning, Cassandra had had the pleasure of hitting Katie Bell, a Gryffindor chaser who'd asked if she thought they had a Quidditch league in Azkaban, in the back of the head with a perfectly-aimed bludger, and was having a lot of fun pelting the bludgers the Weasley twins kept directing at her right back at them, until Harry Potter, who somehow had managed to become Gryffindor's seeker despite being a first year, had started bucking on his broom, which clearly had been tampered with by someone, probably from her team. The thought angered her. If they were going to play, why not try to win with pure skill? The team certainly had it, after all they had won the Cup every single year she'd been at Hogwarts. The boy-who-lived had managed to catch the snitch anyways, almost swallowing the thing in a play Cassandra had never seen in person before. She'd be annoyed at him if it wasn't for her team's attempt at cheating.

"I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE IT!" Flint howled in the locker room.

"Will you stop screaming, Flint!" She said, throwing a stinging hex her Captain's way to get his attention. He jumped and scowled at her, but stopped yelling. "We were playing a good game until Potter caught the snitch. We were sixty-twenty. Higgs is going to need a better broom if he's going to keep up with a Nimbus Two Thousand, but our play was good."

"Not good enough!" Flint answered angrily.

"No, not good enough. So we train harder, and do better next time. But enough with the bloody screaming," Cassandra said.

"I'm with Lestrange," Adrian said from behind her.

"Shut up, Pucey!" The captain replied angrily. Adrian frowned, and Cassandra rolled her eyes at him. Of course Flint wouldn't yell at her to shut up. He probably thought she'd use him in a ritual as a human sacrifice if he did it. Having a reputation as a Dark witch had its perks.

"Now, there's something I believe needs to be addressed," Cassandra said to the entire locker room. "Someone jinxed Potter's broom." When her teammates started yelling in protest, she raised her wand. They immediately stopped. "I'm not saying it was one of us. I'm not saying it wasn't one of us. What I'm saying is, as much as the thought of getting one over the boy-who-lived might be enjoyable, if the person who did this is caught, and they suspect it was done to influence the outcome of the match, our team could be disqualified from the entire season. Do we want that, Flint?" She asked the Captain, who had turned a ghostly shade of white at the idea.

"IF I FIND OUT ONE OF YOU IDIOTS-"

Cassandra smiled to herself. There, she'd done her part.

With the end of November came the anniversary of the day Cassandra had last seen her parents. It was a date she dreaded, but couldn't help marking on her calendar. She remembered vividly the warning her mother had given her that day to never trust a traitor, the way she had kissed the top of her head before saying goodbye; her father, waving to her as he apparated. She remembered the fear she felt on the days that followed, when Mimi had tried to comfort her as Ministry wizards tried to blast away the charm set up by her family, which had prevented anyone uninvited from entering the Lestrange property.

That afternoon, Cassandra decided to take a walk along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She often found herself drawn to the location, and had to resist the impulse to delve into the woods. She was thinking about Klaus, who had wandered into the forest to hunt, which is why, she told herself later, she was startled by Cedric Diggory, possibly the least threatening person in Hogwarts, behind the house-elves and the Sorting Hat, who didn't even qualify as people.

"By Merlin, Cedric!" She said, hand to her heart. "You almost scared my ghost right out of me."

Cassandra stopped for a moment to wonder when she'd started to think of the wizard as Cedric instead of Diggory. She wasn't on a first name basis with many people. Maybe when she told him off for offering to lend her his dragonhide gloves in Herbology, and he had only nodded in return, not affected by her rudeness at all. Not many people weren't scared of her these days. It was nice knowing there was someone who didn't think she would murder them for approaching her. That was a perfect word to describe Cedric Diggory, Cassandra thought, 'nice'. Nice and handsome.

"I'm so sorry," he said, although she could tell he was trying his best not to laugh at her reaction. At his poor attempt of looking contrite, Cassandra startled giggling. He laughed with her.

"I didn't know it was possible for someone to jump that high without a broom," Cedric said.

"Oh, do shut up," Cassandra said, no heat behind the words. She started walking, and Cedric walked by her side. "Do you make it a habit of going around scaring unsuspecting witches, Diggory?"

"No, I don't. I'm pretty sure my mother would hex me if she found out her son was doing something like that. And please, call me Cedric," he said.

"I assure you my hexing would be far worse than your mother's, Cedric. Unlike her, I have no personal stake in your continued well-being," Cassandra said, and watched him take her words in from the corner of her eye. His mouth curved in a small smile. He didn't seem scared by her threats, he seemed... fond. Cassandra's face heated. Was she blushing? She had no memory of ever blushing, in her life. She couldn't believe she was blushing over Cedric Diggory.

"I have no doubt of that," the wizard said, interrupting her thoughts. "But I swear on my magic, I had no intention of scaring you."

"I believe you," Cassandra said. For some reason, it wasn't hard to.

"Good," Cedric replied. "I've been wanting to talk to you for a while. I wanted to know if you're alright."

"If I'm alright?" Cassandra repeated. "Yes, of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I looked up the ritual you were performing that day," Cedric said, looking ahead. Cassandra stared at his profile as he spoke. He was holding his hands behind his back, as if to stop himself from fidgeting. "Based on what Clearwater described. It took me a while, because I had no familiarity with rune magic outside of what Professor Babbling teaches in her class, but I found a description of something similar to it in a book called ' _A Handbook of Armanen Runic Wisdom_ '".

"Yes, that's where I got the idea from," Cassandra said. Cedric nodded.

"There's nothing dark about it. It's a healing ritual," he said.

"Yes. I don't make it a habit of practicing dark magic. Although my family's definition of dark magic is probably a lot more flexible than most people's," she said with a smile, although there was no humor behind it.

"I know you don't," Cedric said firmly. "Practice dark magic, that is."

"You know that?" Cassandra asked, her eyebrows raised. This time, it was Cedric who blushed.

"I suppose I can't know that for a fact, but I believe that you don't. You know, Professor Sprout really likes you," he said.

"She does?" Cassandra asked. Cedric nodded.

"She talks about you sometimes. She told me you and your grandfather grow a lot of rare plants that even she doesn't. That you're good with them," the wizard continued.

"Yes, my grandfather is a potion-maker," she explained. "He believes the only way to guarantee a potion's quality is to harvest the ingredients yourself. He taught me everything I know."

"Professor Sprout doesn't like a lot of people," Cedric said. "She likes plants, and taking care of plants, and talking about plants, but that's about it. She's polite to everyone, of course, but for her to actually like someone enough to talk about them, it takes something special. A gentleness that makes you good at nurturing other living things." Cedric said.

"I don't think anyone who's ever met me would describe me as gentle," Cassandra replied.

"I don't think most people give you any reason to be gentle with them," Cedric said. "They're certainly not gentle with you."

At that, Cassandra stopped walking. She turned towards Cedric, who had a fierce look in his eyes.

"I see you. The way you are with your raven. He's not your pet, or at least he's not like any pet I've ever seen. He anticipates your needs. He reacts to your moods. He holds grudges against people who are rude you. He loves you, because you love him. You're an aggressive player, but you have never fouled anyone during a Quidditch match. When we were handling Mandrakes in Herbology last year, whenever you took your plant out of the soil and it started crying, you sang to it. I couldn't hear it, but I saw you," Cedric said.

"It was a baby," Cassandra said defensively.

"Exactly. You felt bad for a plant because it was a baby and it was scared, so you soothed it. You're not a bad person. But everyone treats you like you are," the wizard said, still looking her in the eyes. Cassandra crossed her arms in front of her chest. All of that was true, but she had never expected anyone to notice. Or to care. She had no idea what to say. As if sensing her discomfort, Cedric's eyes softened.

"I can't imagine how hard it must be, having to carry the weight of what your family did on your shoulders," he said softly. Cassandra closed her eyes. She was not going to cry. No one had ever said those words to her. Some had vaguely expressed the sentiment, but never said the actual words. They hit her harder than she thought they would. She had grown up knowing there was no fairness in the world, so she had no expectation of ever receiving any acknowledgement for enduring the lack of it in her own life. Receiving that acknowledgment, even if from someone she rarely talked to, was as painful as it was cathartic.

"Why are you saying all of this?" She asked weakly without opening her eyes. She felt Cedric putting his warm hand on her arm, and heard him sighing deeply.

"Because I-"

But before Cedric could finish speaking, Cassandra heard a loud, piercing croak she'd recognize anywhere. She looked at the sky and saw Klaus flying in their direction, quickly and with purpose. She extended her arm out to give him a place to land.

"Hey, pretty boy," she said to Klaus, caressing his head with a finger. "What's going on? You sound scared." In that moment, Cassandra noticed a silver-blue, tick substance coated Klaus' talons. Her stomach flinched. She ran her finger over the bird's talons and brought it to her nose. As she feared, it smelled sweet.

"What's wrong?" Cedric asked anxiously, reading her face.

"There's an injured unicorn somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. Klaus came to warn me. I have to go."

She turned to run into the woods, but was stopped by Cedric's arm over her middle.

"You can't go in there!" He said urgently. "You could get hurt. There are all sorts of creatures in the forest."

"I'm aware of that, Diggory," Cassandra replied angrily, shoving his arm away from her. "One of those creatures is hurt, and needs care. Unless you want to get stunned, get out of my way."

The wizard looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "All right, I'm coming with you."

But Cassandra had started running even before Cedric ended his sentence. Klaus flew ahead of her, showing her the way to the injured animal. There weren't many creatures capable of killing a unicorn. They were so quick, they could outrun most predators, and creatures of such powerful light magic that even the darkest of beasts tended to be averse to killing them. Her grandfather had bought a golden unicorn foal when she was eight, and when the animal had let her pet it, she'd felt such a rush of purity she'd broken down in tears. The idea of one of those creatures hurt and bleeding alone in the Forbidden Forest was enough to make her run quicker. She jumped over twisted roots and fallen branches.

Deep into the dense woods, Klaus came to a halt, landing on a tall tree branch. Cassandra looked around carefully, and eventually spotted the shocking bright white of an unicorn's coat against the darkness of the forest ground. The animal was making pitiful, painful sounding noises that made her stomach clench. She heard a shocked gasp behind her.

"That's-"

"Shhh," she whispered to Cedric. "Stay back. They don't trust males. I'm going to see what's wrong."

Cassandra undid the clasp of her outer robe and dropped it to the forest ground. She walked slowly and steadily towards the injured creature. When it saw her, it bucked back, crying out. "It's alright," she said softly, putting her hands up and approaching it even more carefully. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I'm not going to hurt you." She kneeled by the animal's head and slowly pet its face. The animal shivered and relaxed, as if relieved by the lack of violence in her touch.

"What's wrong with it?" Cedric whispered to her from where he stood. She lifted her head, and realized she was crying.

"Something cut its throat," she answered quietly, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "See?" She pointed to an enormous gash going from the animal's neck to its ribs. She kept petting its side delicately, trying to bring it some comfort without causing pain. "It's bleeding out."

"Is there - what do we do?" Cedric asked. His eyes were red, and a tear was making its way down his face. Cassandra closed her eyes, thinking.

"Go get Kettleburn," she said decisively. "He's going to know what to do. Start yelling for him as soon as you get to the edge of the Forest. Use an Amplifying charm on your voice if you have to."

"I shouldn't leave you alone," Cedric replied. "Whatever did this…"

"Is long gone. Go. Klaus will protect me," Cassandra answered. Cedric wiped the tears from his face and took off running on the direction they'd come from. Cassandra mirrored his action and wiped her own face with her sleeve. There wasn't really any time to get Professor Kettleburn, or anything he'd be able to do once he got to them. Healing charms and potions created with the human anatomy in mind didn't work on magical creatures. They usually had to be nursed back to health the same way non-magical animals were, and the unicorn had lost too much blood for that to be an option. But Cassandra knew a type of magic that was particularly amenable to intent, and a healing ritual she could readily perform with what she had at hand.

She took out her wand and started quickly transfiguring runes from a branch she found behind her. It was oak, not bloodwood, but it would have to do. She laid them out in the form of a pentagram around the fallen animal, then took the rest of her clothes off, tossing them aside. She cut her own palm with a spell, then proceeded to drip her blood over the runes. She drew the final rune on the unicorn's head, right below its horn, and kneeled in front of it again. She could feel the magic of the forest thrumming through the runes. She visualised the animal's wound knitting itself closed, and her own blood giving it strength, and started chanting. After a while, her world faded to black.

Sometime later, she woke up in a bed in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey hovering over her.

"Oh, thank goodness, you're awake!" The witch exclaimed. "You did a very irresponsible thing, and lost a lot of blood. We were very worried for you."

Cassandra nodded to appease her. She looked around slowly, and saw Professor Dumbledore sitting on a chair by her bedside, with Professor Snape standing silently behind him, looking extremely put-out. Cassandra wanted to snap at him. The man couldn't even muster up enough compassion to pretend he had any bedside manners.

"Did it work?" She asked the headmaster. "Did I save it?"

Professor Snape's scowl somehow deppened, even though Cassandra hadn't thought it possible.

"You almost killed yourself in the grounds of this school, Miss Lestrange, and the first thing you inquire about when you wake up is the health of a unicorn? In your years as my student I hadn't pegged you as a fool, but apparently I was wrong," Snape chided. Klaus croaked angrily at him from somewhere above her head, and Dumbledore smiled.

"That is a very loyal raven you have there, Miss Lestrange," the headmaster said. "Madam Pomfrey tried to get it out of the room, but it had none of it."

"He's my familiar. He goes where I go," she answered. "Specially when I'm hurt."

"Yes," Professor Dumbledore agreed. "It takes an exceptional amount of trust between a magical creature and a wizard for a familiar bond to be formed; did you know that? A wizard can own a magical creature for its entire life without the bond ever forming, only having it as a pet. My own phoenix, Fawkes, stayed by my side for close to a decade before she accepted our bond. How long did it take for you and Klaus?"

"A couple months," Cassandra answered.

"That doesn't surprise me, considering his witch is the kind of person who would risk losing her own life to save another creature's," Dumbledore replied.

"Of all the stupid things-" Professor Snape started, only to be interrupted by the headmaster.

"Severus, please. The girl has had a very taxing day. You can yell at her once she's fully recovered," Dumbledore said calmly. Snape glared at the back of the headmaster's head, then left the room in silence.

"The unicorn. Is it ok?" Cassandra asked again.

"Yes, it is," Dumbledore replied. "According to Mr. Diggory, it was nearly dead when the two of you found it."

"None of it was Cedric's fault. We were talking when Klaus came to warn me about the unicorn, and Cedric only went into the forest because he didn't want me to go in alone. He tried to talk me out of it," Cassandra said.

"I know, my dear," Dumbledore said. "Mr. Diggory and Professor Kettleburn were walking back into the forest to find you when Firenze carried you out. Mr. Diggory was quite distressed at your state, but was able to tell us what had happened."

"Firenze?" She asked.

"One of the centaurs that live in the Forbidden Forest. Some of them watched you perform your ritual, and he carried you out of the forest once you passed out," Dumbledore replied.

Cassandra shivered at the knowledge she had been watched as she tried to save the creature. "Why didn't they intervene?" She asked. "Why didn't they try to help it?"

"I'm afraid their magic would have been of no help. They were going to take the animal out of its misery before you arrived," Dumbledore said. Cassandra nodded. That made sense.

"It wasn't an accident," she said. "Something butchered that unicorn for its blood."

"I know," Dumbledore replied.

"Do you know what did it? I can't even comprehend the vileness of something capable of doing that. Unicorns are..."

"Unmatched in their nobility, and in the goodness of their magic," Dumbledore completed her sentence.

"Yes," Cassandra assented. "There was no choice, Professor. I couldn't watch it die. A part of me would have died with it, that I'm not ready to lose yet."

"I understand, my girl," the headmaster answered. "Seeing something so singularly pure desecrated in such a violent manner would've affected anyone with a good heart. You had the tools to save it, and you did. But you could have died. You might have had, based on the extent of your injuries, if Firenze hadn't carried you out in time."

"That was my choice to make," Cassandra answered. "And I would make the same one again, if I had the chance. My entire line has died out, or is incarcerated, Professor. If I were to die saving the life of such a pure creature, my sacrifice would be a drop in the cauldron compared with the pain caused by the acts carried out by my family.

For a moment, the headmaster looked pained. "It is not your responsibility to atone for the sins of your family, Miss Lestrange."

"All I have done, my entire life, is carry the sins of my parents, Professor. I have grown quite used to their weight," Cassandra replied.

The headmaster nodded sadly, and took his leave.

Hours later, after she'd had another nap and a blood-replenishing potion, Madam Pomfrey allowed Adrian and Cedric in for a visit. They both looked haggard and worried.

"You stupid, hard-headed, crazy bitch-" Adrian started, only to be stopped short by an angry Cedric.

"Don't talk to your girlfriend like that!" Cedric said, with shocking forcefulness.

"My girlfriend?!" "His girlfriend?!" Adrian and Cassandra exclaimed at the same time.

"Whatever you think is going on here, is not what's actually going on here, Diggory," Adrian said with a hint of humor.

"Does everyone think that?" Cassandra asked, annoyed. "He's not my boyfriend. We have no interest in each other like that."

"It's true," Adrian shrugged.

"But… You're together all the time. Whenever he's not with Flint, he's always with you." Cedric said.

"Whenever he's not with Flint?" Cassandra asked, turning to her friend. "Since when have you been spending so much time with-"

"That's not relevant right now," Adrian said quickly. "I peeked my head out of the Quidditch pitch when I heard Diggory screaming the castle down calling for Kettleburn, only to see you being carried out of the Forbidden Forest naked and covered in blood by a centaur. When I recovered from the near heart attack that gave me and managed to fly there, I heard from said centaur you were bleeding out because you tried to kill yourself to save a unicorn. Have you been hit in the head by any stray bludgers lately, Lestrange? What were you thinking? Since when do you pull stupid life-threatening stunts, and without me? I know today's not your favorite day, but this is a little much."

Klaus cawed in agreement. "Traitor," Cassandra muttered at her familiar.

"It wasn't as if I planned it out," she said sullenly to Adrian. "Cedric and I were talking, and Klaus flew over to tell me about the unicorn. We followed him and when we got to it, I realized it was dying, and what I had to do."

"So you sent me out for Kettleburn for nothing?" Cedric asked her, suddenly serious. Cassandra winced.

"Look," she tried, in a conciliatory tone, "I figured you wouldn't let me do what I needed to do, so I thought I would have you get Kettleburn, and when you found us I would have performed the ritual already. I expected the blood, but I didn't anticipate the fainting bit."

"You could have died," Cedric continued in the same serious tone. "Merlin, when I saw you, I thought you were-" The wizard ran a hand over his face, as if trying to compose himself. "I thought you were dead, Cassandra. And that it was my fault because I left you in that stupid forest when I knew I shouldn't have. I trusted you, and you lied to me."

If Cassandra could blast a hole in the ground and disappear into it, she would. She was used to anger and disappointment, but they felt unbearable coming from the Hufflepuff. He had said those wonderful things to her earlier, and now he looked sad and tired, and it was her fault. She did the only thing she could think of to turn the situation around, and started crying. "I'm so sorry," she said through her tears. "I didn't mean to worry you, I just wanted to do whatever I could to save it."

At that, Cedric knelt on the floor by her bedside and hugged her, saying that it was okay, and that he'd only been concerned for her. Cassandra let herself bask in the warmth of his hug. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been held with such affection by another person. When she opened her eyes, still embracing Cedric, she saw Adrian staring at her, amused and incredulous. "You are unbelievable," her friend soundlessly mouthed at her. "Shut up," she answered in the same manner.

When Cedric pulled back, his cheeks slightly pink, Cassandra wiped her tears with the bed's white linen sheets. The tears hadn't been entirely sincere, but she realized she had needed to shed them.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said finally, still kneeling besides her and now holding her hand between his. He was stroking the back of her hand with his thumb absent-mindedly. Cassandra was hypnotized by the feeling. If she could bottle up Cedric Diggory's physical affection, she would never need to consume anything else. "And as silly as that might sound now, I'm glad you…"

"You glad I'm… what?" She asked, curious to know what the wizard wanted to say. He looked embarrassed for a moment, looking back and forth between her and Adrian.

"Whatever you say to her, she's probably going to repeat to me later," Adrian said.

"Shut up, Adrian," Cassandra said, and then felt a realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "Oh."

"What is it?" Adrian asked anxiously. "Are you in pain? Should I get Pomfrey?"

"You!" She said, and turned to Cedric. "Before Klaus arrived, when we were talking. You were about to confess your feelings to me. That's what the whole speech was about."

"There was a speech?" Adrian asked, interested.

Cassandra turned to her friend. "I am deathly serious here, Pucey. If you don't shut up, I'm going to feed you to the giant squid." She turned back to Cedric, who was blushing madly at this point. "The whole speech about seeing me, that's what it was about, wasn't it? You have feelings for me."

Cedric cleared his throat. "I, yes. That's what it was about. I do. Have feelings for you, I mean. I've had them for a while."

Cassandra smiled. "How long?" She asked him. "How long have you had those feelings for?"

"Last year. When I saw you singing to the baby Mandrake. I thought it was - this is so embarrassing - I started really paying attention to you then. But I thought you and Pucey were together." Cedric answered.

"So you just pined for me from afar?" Cassandra teased. Cedric's ears were red by this point. She nudged him. "Did you build up your courage to talk to me today, hoping I would realize you were the right wizard for me and dump Pucey on his sorry ass?"

"No, I wouldn't in a million years try to break up your relationship, I just - I just wanted to - everyone was being so harsh to you and I wanted to-" At this point, Cedric looked up from the ground at her and realized she was holding in her laughter. "Merlin," he huffed out. "You really are evil." At that, she started to laugh heartily, as did he.

"I'm sorry," she said, still laughing. "I shouldn't have teased you. It was cruel of me."

"I forgive you," Cedric said with an easy smile. "And it's alright. That you don't have feelings for me. I didn't expect you to. I just wanted you to know that not everyone believes the bad things said about you. I don't. And I never will."

When he started to get up, Cassandra grabbed his hands. He stopped, startled, and sat at the edge of her bed when she didn't let him go.

"I don't have feelings for you," she said softly, stroking his thumb with hers, "not yet." At that, Cedric's eyes locked with hers. "But I think I could have," she continued. "If we started being around each other more. If today is any indication, I don't think it wouldn't take me very long."

"You really think so?" Cedric asked, brows furrowed. He was looking at her searchingly, seeming almost afraid to find an answer.

"Yeah, I think so," Cassandra said with a smile. "It was a really great speech."

"That's good. That's really, really good to hear," Cedric said with a matching smile. "I practiced that speech in front of a mirror and everything."

"You didn't," she said, incredulous.

"I did," he said simply.

"That's painfully embarrassing. It's a little endearing, but mostly embarrassing. Why would you ever admit that?" Cassandra asked.

"Because teasing me seems to make you happy," the wizard said. "And being made fun of by a beautiful witch seems like a very small price to pay for your happiness."

"I was expecting to have a miserable day today," Cassandra said. "From the moment I woke up, all I wanted was to go to sleep again, just so tomorrow would come quicker. But instead, I saved a unicorn's life, and I found out a really great guy has feelings for me."

"It sounds like you had a brilliant day," Cedric said with a pleased smile.

"One of the best I've ever had," she replied.


	7. In the Green Wild

The holidays were coming. The castle and grounds were covered in several feet of pristine white snow, and the cold wind blew sharp and fresh against Cassandra's face when she walked outside. Which, due to the numerous detentions and scoldings she'd received from professors over the incident during her birthday, was not often. The one exception was Professor Kettleburn, who, in his love of magical creatures, felt Cassandra's behavior had been nothing short of commendable. That the only teacher who supported her actions did not even have a third of his limbs left had not escaped the witch.

Nonetheless, she was still worried about what she'd found in the forest. She poured over books on magical creatures, potions, and the dark arts, some of which she had Mimi bring over from the house, some she'd borrowed from the library's restricted section with a pass from Kettleburn, trying to figure out what could harm a unicorn in that way, and why it would want to.

Unicorns possessed very powerful magic properties, and many parts of their bodies - such as their tail hairs and horns, were commonly used in potions and wand-making. But the harvesting of these ingredients did not require the animal to be killed. As a matter of fact, it was well-known amongst potion-makers that concoctions made with ingredients taken from a slain unicorn would often have unpredictable and adverse side-effects. Taking the life of a creature of such concentrated light magic corrupted not only the magic of its killer, but also tainted the magic left in the animal's carcass.

No matter how much she read, it all kept coming back to blood. Cassandra knew that's what the magical creature had been killed for. When she and Cedric had found it, there weren't chunks of flesh missing, and its horn had been intact. What had been missing, were pints of its blood. Her mind had gone to vampires at first, but her research indicated that unicorns would be highly sensitive to the presence of the dark creatures, and could easily outrun them. Besides, the injured unicorn's throat must have have been cut, for the wound she remembered healing was too perfect, too clean to have been done by anything other than a knife or a severing spell.

Other clues started piling in. In one of the books on the dark arts taken from her family library, she found a passage that used the terms 'blood' and 'life essence' interchangeably for unicorns. The same book suggested wizards who seeked to prolong their natural lives could attempt doing so by experimenting with the substance, ' _at their own peril_ '. An ancient tome taken from the dustiest recesses of the restricted section listed unicorn blood as an ingredient in a potion to regrow limbs severed by dark magic. A note scribbled at the end of the page that contained said recipe informed of the risk of the regrown limb turning against its host and attempting to kill them. There was even a ritual for the creation of a humanoid body for an unnatached soul to latch itself to, written by hand on a journal that belonged to a long dead Lestrange witch, that required not only unicorn blood, but also human bones, flesh and blood.

From all her research, Cassandra eventually concluded the unicorn must've been killed for its blood by a witch or wizard practicing magic of the darkest kind. The knowledge that such a person had been roaming the Forbidden Forest at some point, so close to the castle, was disturbing enough to make her put the subject off her mind entirely for a while. She still had to sleep at night somehow.

Not being able to roam the grouds, and wanting a distraction from her worries, Cassandra threw herself into her classwork. Cedric had taken to sitting with her during Defense and Arithmancy, the two classes besides Herbology the third year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs shared, much to the bewilderment of their classmates. Many theories were shared as to what exactly had happened in the Forbidden Forest to bring the two together, some of which amused the witch more than others.

"What I don't understand," Adrian said to her as they worked on their Potions essays side by side in the Slytherin common room one afternoon. "Is how Diggory is supposed to be the one who saved you from being killed by the centaurs when it was one of them that carried you out of the forest. Doesn't seem like very beastly behavior, giving you back and all."

"Well, given that Firenze is my centaur lover, Adrian, obviously he couldn't bear to watch me being murdered by the rest of his clan," Cassandra answered without looking up from her parchment. Adrian chortled. That particular theory was one of her favourites. Like the mere thought of a Lestrange mating with a beast wouldn't be enough to have her ancestors spinning in their tombs.

That thought, however, led Cassandra's mind to a direction that caused her some measure of anxiety. She had no doubt her grandfather would respect, if not fully approve, her decision to perform a potentially deadly ritual on herself. They both agreed that there were many fates worse than death, and that subjugating oneself to an existence defined by one's fear of it was foolish and useless. His own work as a potion-maker had caused him to test out many potentially fatal potions on himself throughout the years, and the wizard considered the adverse side-effects that experimentation had had on his body an unfortunate, but acceptable price to be paid for the advancement of the science. What Cassandra worried about was her grandfather's thoughts in regards to Cedric Diggory's tentative courtship of her.

Being the future head of the Lestrange family, it was ultimately up to Cassandra to decide what she did and did not find acceptable in a partner and, eventually, in her choice of husband. Nonetheless, she was very much aware of the expectations placed upon her as not only a Lestrange, but also as a Black. If her parents' side had won the war, it was likely an arrangement would have been made for her marriage to her cousin Draco, or some other heir of a pureblood supremacist family. Maybe she would've married a Rosier, like her grandfather had married her late grandmother Druella, or even a son of her uncle Rabastan or of Sirius Black, her first cousin once removed, who had switched loyalties at the end of the war. If she had to give up the Lestrange name after marrying, she found the idea of taking the Black name comforting. They were already her family.

Or maybe, if all that was said about her parents being the Dark Lord's most faithful servants was true, Cassandra would've been saved for the Dark Lord himself. After all, had he won and taken control of the wizarding world, he would've needed an heir to eventually take his place. Cassandra contemplated the thought. Sometimes she wondered what kind of person she would be had she grown up under her parents' influence. Would she have come to worship the Dark Lord as they did? Would the idea of serving him and bearing his children have filled her with joy? Now, the thought made her nauseous.

Cassandra prided herself on being a realist. Despite all the childish fantasies she'd once had about having her family reunited, she knew their imprisonment had granted her freedoms she wouldn't have been afforded otherwise. She was free to make up her own mind on the issue of pureblood superiority or, as she preferred, to avoid taking a stand on the topic entirely, to date freely and even to never marry if she so wished. In a sense, with her family in Azkaban, she was freer than Draco, or any of her pureblood classmates. Being the last of her line, there wasn't a threat of disinheritance hanging over her head for stepping over any arbitrary lines drawn by her family. She could do as she pleased, and when she turned seventeen, the content of the Lestrange vaults would still be hers.

She was free to pursue a relationship with Cedric Diggory, a compassionate, caring wizard, son of a half-blood mother and a father who had not publicly taken a side during the war, too terrified of the Dark Lord and his followers to risk angering him in such a manner. Still, just because dating Cedric wouldn't result in her disinheritance, it didn't mean Cassandra wanted to alienate her grandfather, the only family member she trusted and loved.

Grandfather Cygnus rarely spoke to her about his own views on politics or the war, but he had raised his three daughters to be paragons of pureblood ideals, and threw one of them out of the family when she chose to marry a muggleborn. Cedric's blood would be considered pure enough by most families, but the House of Black was known for its strict standards in that regard. Nothing short of the purest of the Sacred Twenty-Eight was enough for a Black. Ultimately, if she had to choose between staying in her grandfather's good graces or being able to get involved with whoever she wanted, Cassandra's unwillingness to be controlled would trump out her loyalty to the man who had raised her, but she did not want to be forced to make such a choice.

That's what she was thinking about when Mimi came to retrieve her from the train station at the beginning of the holidays. After being apparated to the house and greeting Gibbo and Hux, the two other Lestrange house-elves, Cassandra refreshed herself and walked out of her home, wanting to clear her head before searching for her grandfather, who was probably working in his laboratory.

First, she went to the aviary, and hand-fed the various magical and mundane birds that had to be kept in the spacious but restricted building to avoid being eaten by the various predators in the area. The species that did not do well in captivity would visit the feeding stations outside the building throughout the day, by now used to the easy access to food. Cassandra said hello to Klaus, who had flown back alongside the train, and stunned a few chickens, which she put in a bucket she levitated by her side, and then made her way with him to the woods that surrounded the property.

As they made their way deeper into the woods, Klaus croaked from her shoulder, and pecked at her ear. "You're right," Cassandra said to the raven, and summoned a pair of dragonhide gloves, which she put on. "I'd forgotten. Thank you."

The bird cooed happily and flew away. Cassandra smiled. It was good to be back home.

She started whistling softly as she walked, making up a tune, and soon enough, a bird-like head peaked out from behind a tree, looking at her curiously. The witch stood still, and watched as the half-bird, half-reptile, dragon-like magical beast walked towards her. The snallygaster, small for its kind, stood at about eight feet tall, and its serrated steel fangs shone when the animal opened its mouth. Once they stood about ten feet apart, Cassandra raised her hand, and the beast stopped moving.

"Hello, Sally," Cassandra said while she took a bird from the bucket levitating behind her. "I have something for you."

With a spell, she revived the chicken and then threw it up in the air. The snallygaster moved incredibly fast, snatching its prey from the air, and started chewing it voraciously once it landed back down.

"That's right. You're such a good girl," Cassandra said. She repeated the action a couple more times, until the creature seemed satisfied, and then approached it. She stroked its feathers firmly, and in return the animal headbutted her shoulder with enough force to throw her back a couple steps. "I know," Cassandra said with a laugh, and continued to pet it, touching her nose to its snout. "I missed you too, pretty girl."

After spending some time with Sally, then visiting some of the other creatures that resided in the woods, Cassandra made her way back to the house, now with a spring in her step. When she entered the foyer, she saw her grandfather waiting for her.

"It's nice to see where I stand in your list of priorities, child," The old man said. "Even the beasts get a visit before your grandfather, huh?"

"Says the man who couldn't be bothered to get away from his cauldrons for long enough to pick his granddaughter up from the train station," she answered with a grin. Her grandfather's mouth twitched in a barely concealed smile.

"Go on then, and make yourself ready for dinner. We have much to talk about," he said. Cassandra nodded and went up the stairs to her room.

Once they were at the table and dinner had been served, her grandfather started his interrogation.

"So," he said. "How do you justify me having to find out about my granddaughter being injured from a letter from Severus Snape, of all people?"

"I apologize, grandfather. I should have written to you at once. I wasn't counting on Professor Snape's… promptness in informing you of what had happened. It took me a couple of days to recover fully and write you," Cassandra said.

"I believe Severus was terrified I would consider him personally responsible for your injuries. The Black name isn't what it once was, but I still have considerable sway in the potion-making world. It would not be too hard for me to cause him to be blacklisted, and he knows that," her grandfather said. "Of course, I know better than to expect anyone around you to be able to stop you from doing something once you've set your mind to it."

Cassandra wanted to roll her eyes. Of course Snape's concern would not be for the health of one of his students, but for the consequences to his own reputation if one of his pureblood pupils were to be harmed under his watch. He propably couldn't care less if any of them lived or died, as long as they perished outside of Hogwarts.

"It was a very unwise thing you did, Cassandra," the wizard continued. "Risking your life like that for an animal. Animals are replaceable. You are not. It pains me to think you value yourself so little."

She blinked, then blinked again a few times. When framed like that, her actions sounded beyond irrational. Her grandfather was right. She put her fork down, and looked at him. There was no winning an argument against Cygnus Black.

"I hadn't thought of it like that," she said honestly. "I didn't believe I would die, not really. We were close enough to the school and there was someone coming for me. I was prepared to be hurt, and to bleed, but those things can be healed easily enough."

"And if another creature had scented your blood and chosen to attack you? Injured prey is easy prey, you know that," he said. "There are all manner of beasts residing in that forest. One of them could easily have finished you off before anyone got to you."

"You're right. I could have died. I'm sorry. I won't be so careless in the future," Cassandra answered.

Her grandfather looked at her pointedly. "See that you do. I have no intention of outliving you, child. Besides that, how was your term?"

"Our Defense professor is a fumbling mess. He's solid enough on the theory, which is better than nothing, I suppose, but we haven't lifted our wands once in his classroom, and I don't think we will. Professor McGonagall still doesn't like me, but she doesn't let her bias affect her grading, which is all I can ask for. Professor Babbling was impressed by my rune work and suggested some books for extra reading. The rest is the same. Good. I'm doing my occlumency exercises every day," she said.

"Defense is a lost cause at Hogwarts, we know that," her grandfather said. "You can catch up on your practice during the summer, send an outline of the subjects covered in class this year to Ivanovich so he knows what to include on your lessons."

Cassandra nodded. Boris Ivanovich was a gruff old wizard who'd taught Dark Arts at Durmstrang for many decades before retiring and moving to Italy to live the rest of his days away from his two nemeses - lazy children and the cold. He'd been reluctantly brought out of retirement by her grandfather to tutor her during the summers once Cassandra had informed him of the poor state of Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Art curriculum. He was ruthless, and demanding, and the best teacher she had ever had. She looked forward to her summer lessons.

"There's something else I would like to talk to you about, grandfather," Cassandra said. The older wizard looked at her expectantly. "What do you know about the Diggory family?"

Her grandfather's brows furrowed. "Diggory… Well, there was an Eldritch Diggory who was Minister of Magic in the seventeen hundreds, I believe he was the one who created the Auror recruitment program. And I've dealt with an Amos Diggory a few times at the Ministry, over at the Magical Creatures department. Unremarkable wizard. Why?"

"Amos Diggory has a son. Cedric. He's a third year. We… Well," Cassandra paused, willing herself not to blabber. She was a Lestrange, and Lestranges did not blabber. "He expressed his wish to court me, and I said yes." She said evenly.

Her grandfather cleaned his mouth with his napkin, and sat back on his chair, looking at her. "I see," he said simply.

"His family was neutral during the war, and Cedric's blood is as pure as it gets outside Sacred Twenty-Eight. It might not be what you envisioned for me, but I am already the head of my own family. I would gain very little by marrying some overindulged heir. And I will feed myself to the giant squid before I marry Draco," Cassandra said. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could almost see a smile dancing at the edge of her grandfather's expression.

"Dramatics aside, why do you believe I would rather have you married to your cousin Draco than to this Diggory boy?" He asked.

"Because of everything the House of Black stands for," Cassandra said. "And you did raise my mother."

"I also raised Andromeda," her grandfather answered. She didn't flinch, but it was a near thing. She couldn't remember him ever using her aunt's name, or voluntarily talking about her at all.

The older wizard sighed deeply. "I am an old man, Cassandra, but I do like to think I've learned from my past mistakes. I raised three beautiful, brilliant witches to be everything I'd been taught by my family a proper pureblood witch should be. At no point did it occur to me to ask them what kind of witches they wanted to be. Things just weren't done that way that in our family. And after Druella died giving birth to Narcissa… well, there's no use going into that. Let's just say I wasn't as present in my daughters' lives as I should've been. I didn't listen to them. And because of that, all three went out looking for someone who would. Narcissa found that pompous fool Malfoy and never looked back, Andromeda found the muggleborn, and your mother-" Her grandfather sighed again. "Your mother found the Dark Lord. I lost all three of my daughters in different ways, and it was entirely my fault."

Cassandra wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but she wasn't sure he would welcome the touch. They weren't a particularly physically affectionate family.

"Then one day, the Ministry came knocking on my door and asked me if I could negotiate with my five year old granddaughter, who was holding herself hostage in her own house," he said with a chuckle. "Even then, you knew exactly what you wanted, Cassandra. I will not have you turn your back on me because I refused to listen to you. Recent incidents aside, you have always shown good judgment in your choices. If the Diggory boy is what you want, and you believe his is worthy of you, then you can have him. Of course, I'll need to meet his family and-"

But she didn't let her grandfather finish. Before he could, she did something neither of them could ever remember her doing, and threw her arms around him, hugging him as fiercely as she could. Eventually, the older wizard hugged her back.

"That's alright," he said after a while, and they both sat back on their chairs. Cassandra was smiling at her grandfather. This had gone so much better than she thought it would.

"Thank you, grandfather," she said.

"You're welcome, child," he replied.


	8. Show Me How You Fight

Cassandra went back to Hogwarts the day before winter term started. Once she arrived and put her things away, she set out to meet the Weasley twins.

She had struggled picking out Yule gifts for the brothers at first, but once she remembered they were teenage boys almost single-mindedly dedicated to driving authority figures into an early grave, the task had become a lot easier. In the end, she decided on two vials of Polyjuice Potion, taken from her grandfather's stores, which she knew would go a long way in helping them cause chaos and mayhem around the castle.

"We can turn ourselves into Snape," Fred said with glee once he opened the parcel she handed them. "Or Filch. Or Dumbledore. Or- Imagine what we can do with this, George."

"I am, Fred. Cassandra, I could kiss you right now," George replied. When Fred jokingly launched himself at her, she made him lick a patch of wall instead.

After talking to the twins, she headed towards Hufflepuff Basement to see Cedric. They had corresponded during the break, him describing Christmas with his family and her speaking of the traditional Yule rites she and her grandfather observed. She was unreasonably excited to see him again. She realized that in some unconscious level, she'd been holding back in their budding relationship before she could talk to her grandfather about it. Knowing now that pursuing it wouldn't drive an edge between her and the only person she considered family made her almost giddy.

Once she reached the entrance to the basement, she waited outside until a first year showed up, then paid the boy a galeon to fetch the older student.

"That looks so undignified," she said with a laugh as Cedric made his way out of the passageway that led to the Hufflepuff common room. It was tall enough for the average eleven year old to be able to walk through, barely. Anyone taller had to either hunch or crawl their way through. What if there was an emergency and they had to leave at once? Were all the Hufflepuffs supposed to crawl orderly one behind another? If they tried that in her House, the Slytherins would probably trample each other to death.

"Yeah, I don't know why they didn't make it tall enough to walk through. But it's not that bad. It's fun for the firsties," Cedric said good-naturedly. His eyes traveled over Cassandra's face and body, as if he wanted to make sure she looked the same as the last time they had seen each other. When he noticed her watching him look at her, his cheeks pinked slightly, but he had a small, happy smile on his face. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Cassandra replied with a smile of her own, and they both moved in for a hug. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, all that existed was Cedric. Cedric's arms around her waist, Cedric's hands splayed on her back, his scent where her face was pressed against his throat, the delicate way his nose touched the skin behind her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Merlin, they hadn't even kissed yet. Could someone die from being kissed?

Once they separated, Cedric laced his fingers with hers. He seemed as reluctant to stop touching her as she was to get away from him. "Come on," she said. "I have a place we can talk."

She took him to her meditation spot, under the open sky at the top of the Astronomy tower. Cedric cast a warming spell around them, and they sat down facing each other, their knees touching.

"You're wearing it," Cedric said, and moved to touch the pendant resting on her breastbone, at the end of a delicate silver chain. He touched the small, silver raven for a few moments, until the silver bird woke and took flight, and they both watched the charmed pendant fly around Cassandra at a leisurely pace. After a while, the raven came back to rest on his place on her chest.

"I am," she said with a smile. "I have been since I got it. It's perfect. How are you enjoying your new broom?"

Cedric threw his head back in frustration. "You are unbelievable, you know that? There I was on Christmas morning, thinking I had gotten the girl I like the perfect gift and that she would be so impressed with how thoughtful I am, and then I open her gift to me, and it's a Nimbus Two Thousand."

Cassandra laughed. "I wouldn't worry about it," she said. "I have it on good authority that the girl you like thinks you're very thoughtful. And that she loved the gift you got her. She just happens to have a large budget, and not that many people to buy presents for."

"It's way too expensive. My parents were insistent that I shouldn't accept it," Cedric said. He sounded conflicted.

"You should accept it," Cassandra said. She reached forward, and smoothed out the small frown that had formed between his eyebrows with the pad of her finger. "If not because you want to, then because it would make me happy."

That's all it took to convince him. Cassandra remembered what he'd said to her at the Hospital Wing, about not minding her teasing if it made her happy. She laid in bed that night and replayed their conversation in her head. She'd never had anyone voluntarily put her happiness above their comfort before. Above their family's express wishes. Her own parents had considered their cause more important than their daughter. A part of her felt warm and cherished by Cedric's actions. And another part, dark and unhealthy, wanted to know just how far she could push him. How much she could ask of him before he walked away from her. She went over that thought again and again, like pressing on a bruise to feel it hurt, until she fell asleep.

The weeks that followed were some of the calmest and happiest of Cassandra's life. She studied, hung out with Adrian, and grew closer to Cedric. They went on their first official date on a Hogsmeade trip, and she consoled him after Hufflepuff lost the first match of the term to Gryffindor. She hexed the Weasleys when their teasing over Gryffindor overtaking Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years became too annoying, and made fun of them when her team beat Ravenclaw and her House took its rightful position back again.

Her respite ended when her cousin was caught sneaking around the castle after curfew, and assigned detention by Professor McGonagall as punishment.

"It's not fair!" Draco cried out to her in the common room. She had been practicing a hair-growth spell on a few first-year girls excited by the opportunity to learn advanced beauty spells from an older student when the boy marched into the room and shooed the young witches away. Cassandra had scowled at his presumptuousness, and was now looking at him passively as he complained. "Potter and Weasley were smuggling a dragon out of the castle, and I'm punished for trying to do the right thing."

She rolled her eyes. "It's just the two of us here, Draco, you don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying!" The blonde boy protested. "I overheard them talking about it, and saw the dragon in Hagrid's hut through the window, I swear!"

"I don't doubt that part. A few students smuggling a dragon would not be the most outrageous thing to ever have happened in this school, not by a long stretch. And it makes sense that Weasley would be involved, since his brother works with them. It's the whole 'doing the right thing' I'm skeptical about." Cassandra replied.

Draco huffed, and sat down besides her, sullen. "At least they got detention as well. Longbottom and that know-it-all Granger too. Does Weasley really have a brother who works with dragons?"

Cassandra tensed at the mention of Neville Longbottom. "Yes," she answered. "Charlie, graduated last year. Everyone thought he'd play Quidditch professionally, but he went to work at a dragon reserve in Romania."

"Typical Weasley," Draco scoffed. "They have no sense."

She didn't protest. Even if she was friends with the twins, no one could accuse them of being particularly sensible. She turned to her cousin. "Look, Draco, it's just detention. Maybe you'll write lines, or polish a few trophies, but it's hardly the end of the world. I've done plenty of them."

But she'd been wrong. The morning after his detention, Draco told her the tale of a hooded figure drinking the blood of a slain unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, and Harry Potter being rescued by the same centaur that had saved her. Cassandra's blood went cold.

"I can't believe this," she muttered to herself as she marched to Professor Kettleburn's office. She didn't know where her fear ended and her rage begun. Knowing that not one, but two unicorns had been killed in the Forbidden Forest within the week, someone had still made the decision to send a group of first years into those woods with nothing but a half-giant and a scared dog. As a result, those first years had almost been attacked by the dark wizard responsible for the butchering happening so close to the castle.

Agitated as she was, Cassandra drew her wand as soon as she felt a hand grabbing her arm from behind her. She was halfway through casting a blasting curse when she realized it was Cedric trying to get her attention.

"What do you think you're doing?" She snapped at him, freeing her arm from his hold. "I almost cursed you!"

"I noticed," Cedric said. He was breathing deeply, as if he'd been running. "Klaus flew into the common room and wouldn't stop pecking me until I came with him. I have no idea how he even got into the basement. I was worried something had happened to you."

"Is that why you're bleeding?" Cassandra asked, noticing the blood smeared on Cedric's ears, and the wizard nodded, swiping at them distractedly.

"What's going on?" He asked. "You seem upset."

"I don't have time to explain now," she answered. "I need to go talk to Kettleburn. It has to do with the dead unicorns in the Forbidden Forest."

"Unicorns? As in more than the one you saved?" Cedric said, his eyebrows going up.

"Yes," Cassandra said.

"Alright. Lead the way," he replied. Cassandra looked at him for a moment. She didn't really mind him coming with her. She didn't trust many people to have her back, but she did trust Cedric. What she didn't trust was that he would still like her after he saw what she was going to do. She took a deep breath. If that was going to happen, it might as well happen now, before she became too attached to him.

"Cassandra!" Professor Kettleburn exclaimed once he saw her entering his office. "It's good to see you, my dear! And who is your friend?"

"This is Cedric Diggory, my boyfriend," she said. She felt him jerk in surprise at the qualifier before stepping forward and introducing himself to the eccentric Care of Magical Creatures teacher. She and Cedric hadn't defined their relationship yet, but she preferred her rejection to come from a boyfriend rather than a friend who had confessed his feelings for her. Hating him would be easier that way.

"How can I assist the two of you today?" Kettleburn asked jovially.

"How many unicorns have been found dead in the Forbidden Forest since the beginning of the school year?" She asked, going straight to the point.

"Aah," the teacher said. "I see you've been informed of the creatures found this week. Not counting the one you saved, four, I believe."

"After all the censure I got for doing that, professor, you can imagine my surprise when I found out someone saw fit for the groundskeeper to take a group of first years that included my eleven year old cousin, into the forest at the dead of night yesterday to find the latest one," Cassandra said with steel in her voice. "Apparently it's fine for students to get themselves killed in the Forbidden Forest, as long as it's during a detention."

Kettleburn looked deeply uncomfortable. "My dear, I believe all Rubeus was trying to do was give the students a valuable learning opportunity. I am sure no one was hurt."

Cassandra felt Klaus landing on her shoulder, and focused on the feeling of him to calm herself down. She was not going to scream, or hex her teacher. "There is a dark wizard butchering unicorns in the forest to drink their blood," she said calmly. "Any wizard worth their wand would have figured that out months ago. And instead of calling the Aurors, it was decided that a bunch of children should be put in harm's way?"

"My dear-" The teacher started.

"Professor Kettleburn," she interrupted him, "I understand you are not to blame for this. That's not why I'm here. I would very much appreciate, however, if you could call Mr. - what is the half-giant's name?"

"Hagrid," Cedric said.

"Mr. Hagrid here so we can talk. I'm strongly considering encouraging my grandfather and my uncle Lucius Malfoy to lodge formal complaints against Mr. Hagrid and whoever else approved yesterday's little excursion with the Board of Governors, unless someone explains to me what on Merlin's name is going on in this school. I'm sure you understand the gravity of the consequences that can arise from the opening of such a complaint."

"Rubeus is a good man, Ms. Lestrange," Kettleburn protested. "He's brilliant with animals, and a great asset to this school."

Cassandra raised one eyebrow skeptically, and said nothing.

Twenty minutes later, she was facing Rubeus Hagrid. The half-giant squirmed in his seat, trying to make himself comfortable on the too-small chair.

"I have heard from people whose opinions I hold in high regard, Mr. Hagrid, that you are very passionate about the well-being of magical creatures," she started.

"Aye, that I am. An' ye can call me Hagrid. Mr. Hagrid was me father, may he rest in peace," the large man said.

Cassandra nodded. "I only wished your nurturing nature extended itself to human children, Hagrid."

The man stiffened. "I dinna ken what yer implying, but I'd never hurt a child!"

"Yet, you saw fit to take five eleven year olds into the Forbidden Forest last night, when there's someone in there dangerous and unhinged enough to have been killing unicorns for months!" Cassandra said angrily.

"The children were safe with me and Fang!" Hagrid replied defensively. "I would'na have let Harry an' the others get hurt."

"Except you weren't with all of the students throughout your visit to forest, were you? You separated them. And your cowardly dog took off as soon as the dark wizard who's been drinking the blood of those unicorns tried to attack Harry Potter and my cousin Draco," Cassandra shot back.

"Harry was fine!" Hagrid replied shakily. "Firenze stepped in an' got 'im to safety."

"Yes, I heard that. The same centaur who carried me out of the forest months ago. He must be the designated rescuer of students in life-threatening danger among his heard. What if he hadn't gotten there in time? The death of the boy-who-lived would've been on you," she said heatedly.

Hagrid paled. "Professor Dumbledore told me nothing bad would happen! That Harry would be fine."

Cassandra sat back, having gotten part of the information she wanted. "So it was Professor Dumbledore who approved yesterday's excursion? That makes sense, since as groundskeeper it isn't within your purview to decide how students are to serve detentions."

"Professor Dumbledore is a great wizard!" Hagrid exclaimed. "He would never put students in real danger!"

"Hmm," she replied noncommittally. Cassandra had no idea what Professor Dumbledore would or would not do. She hardly knew the headmaster. "I assume Professor Kettleburn told you of my intention to have mine and Draco's grandfather, as well as Draco's father, lodge complaints with the Board of Governors against the people involved in last night's mess?"

"I dinna care how much money yer lot have, ye can't touch Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said.

"That's true," she conceded, "but the same can't be said for you."

Hagrid looked terrified at the threat. Kettleburn looked appalled. Cassandra didn't risk looking at Cedric at all.

"Unless," she said.

"Unless?" Hagrid asked, his booming voice sounding small and hopeful.

"You help me understand exactly what is going on. Tell me everything you know about what's happening in the forest," Cassandra replied. "I put my own life in jeopardy to save one of those unicorns, Hagrid. I don't understand why the school is allowing this to go on. I imagine it must hurt you to see them harmed as well."

The large man sighed with resignation. "I dinna ken much. I asked Professor Dumbledore about it every time I found one of 'em hurt, an' he told me we could'na act yet. Dinna tell me why. When I told him 'bout the blood I found yesterday, he told me to take Harry and the other kids with me to find the poor thing. I asked the centaurs if they'd seen anything, but gettin' a straight answer from one of 'em is like pulling teeth."

"What did the centaurs say? Exactly?" She asked.

"Summat 'bout how Mars was bright. That the innocents are always the first to be harmed. An' that they could'na interfere in wizarding folks affairs. That's all I remember, I swear." Hagrid said.

Cassandra believed him. Centaurs were notorious for their ability to predict the future by reading the movement of the stars, as well as for their contempt for humans, muggles and wizards alike.

Apparently, the responsibility for the mishandling of the situation in the Forbidden Forest could be laid at the headmaster's feet. Unfortunately, there truly wasn't anything she or her grandfather could do about that. She couldn't think of anyone with the courage to censure the powerful wizard, even for such harebrained actions.

She thanked Hagrid for his cooperation, assuring him she would make sure her family didn't move against him or Professor Dumbledore for the matter, then left Kettleburn's office with Klaus on her shoulder and Cedric behind her. She felt bone-deep weariness all throughout her body. She kept walking until she found a bench far away from prying ears, and sat down. Cedric stood still in front of her, silent.

"Just say it," she said. She sounded tired, and her words had none of the fire they had had in her previous conversation.

"That was… I don't want to use the world cruel," Cedric said, looking at her. He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes, seeming troubled.

"Harsh. It was harsh," Cassandra offered. "Cruelty requires enjoyment, and I assure you there was nothing about what I just did that I enjoyed."

"Then why did you do it?" Cedric asked.

"What I said is true. I figured out months ago that the unicorn we found had been attacked by a dark wizard for its blood. The blood of a unicorn can be used to keep someone alive, when nothing else will. But hurting the animal corrupts the soul of the wizard. It's foul and unconscionable dark magic. Only someone deeply disturbed would try it," she answered.

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me?" Cedric said.

"I didn't know whoever did it was still in the Forbidden Forest," Cassandra said. "Until this morning, I didn't even know any other unicorns had been harmed. I looked into what could've injured the one I helped because I was curious. And since it wasn't particularly obscure information, I thought Dumbledore and the other teachers already knew, and had handled the whole thing quietly. As they should have."

Cedric sighed, and sat down beside her. "So when your cousin told you about what happened last night, you… lost it?"

"I wouldn't say I lost it, but I was furious, yes. I wanted to know why he was sent there, and by whom. And I figured scaring the groundskeeper would be the easiest way to get that information. He's not exactly known for his genius," she said honestly.

Cassandra thought about the pitiful noises the bleeding unicorn Klaus had led her and Cedric to had made, and how scared the dying creature had been of them. "Do you remember how vile it was? How we cried when we saw it? The one we found?"

"Yes," Cedric said quietly. "It was the saddest thing I've ever seen."

"Whoever did that is still out there. They're just kids, Cedric. Eleven year olds. They should not under any circumstances have been sent into that forest. They could've died. Harry Potter and his friends aren't my responsibility, but Draco is my cousin. My grandfather would mourn him just as he would mourn me," Cassandra said. "And Neville Longbottom-" Cedric was looking at her attentively. Her hands were shaking, and forming fists so tight her nails were cutting into her palms. "I've been keeping an eye on him since the beginning of the year. The boy can barely tie his shoes, and they still sent him into those woods."

"Why do you care about what happens to Neville Longbottom?" Cedric asked softly.

Cassandra let out an incredulous laugh. "Are you serious? Everyone keeps asking me that, why do I care about him. How could I not care about him?" She asked intensely. "I owe him an incalculable debt. If it were the other way around, and his family had tortured my parents until they went insane, he would be dead by now."

Cedric looked stricken. "You don't mean that."

"I do. I would have killed him, and his grandmother, and anyone else his parents loved. If anyone did something like that that to my grandfather, or to Adrian, or to you, I would kill them, Cedric. I would destroy them and everything they care about, because they took something of mine. That's who I am. The girl you thought you had feelings for doesn't exist. You made her up in your head. This is the real me. I'm harsh, and vengeful, and I'll go to unthinkable extremes for the people I love. You decide now if that's someone you want in your life." Cassandra said, angry and unwavering, and walked away before Cedric could see her cry.


	9. I Would Rather See

Cassandra ran to her dorm room, and didn't cry. She thought she would, when she finally told Cedric what she'd been thinking since the day he confessed his feelings for her - that he didn't know the real her, and would no longer care for her once he did. But every time she felt her eyes filling up with tears, a self-aware part of her made her bark out an involuntary laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Her parents were in Azkaban, there was a dark wizard roaming around her school, and she wanted to cry over a boy who hadn't stopped her when she had walked away from him.

She believed that if she were not the result of centuries of inbreeding, not the daughter of Death Eaters, she and Cedric might have been great together. But her temperament belonged to a Lestrange. Cedric had believed her to be kindhearted and _good_ despite her family name, and because of his regard for her, and the lure of the tenderness he had shown her, she had been willing to be that, for him. Subtract the overintensity and the penchant for violence from a Lestrange, and you get someone willing to do anything for those they're devoted to. But such restraint didn't come naturally to her.

Yesterday, she had needed to scare Hagrid to get him to tell her what she wanted to know about Draco's and the other first years' detention in the Forbidden Forest, and so she had. She wanted to resent Cedric for having a problem with that. It wasn't as if he was close to the groundskeeper. But if he hadn't cared, he wouldn't be Cedric, and whatever was Cedric, whatever he was composed of, she wanted. They dealt in different values. For his sentimentality, she would give him her strength, and her loyalty. But in the end, that wasn't enough to balance their accounts. He was going to end things with her. Because he was a better person than her, better than any wizard she knew, the nearly perfect guy. Touchingly perfect.

The next day, during lunch, she sat on the opposite side from her usual spot, with her back to the rest of the tables. She didn't want to risk accidentally locking eyes with a certain Hufflepuff. Adrian took the seat by her side.

"I just can't believe it," Adrian said for the upteenth time. Cassandra had told him what had happened while pushing her food around her plate. "He's not going to break up with you over this. He thinks the sun shines out of your ass, it's actually nauseating."

"Not anymore," she said glumly. "He wasn't even mad at me, Adrian, he was- It was like he couldn't reconcile what he'd seen with the person he made me up to be in his head. He's probably disgusted by me now."

"I don't get it," Adrian said. "You've been glued to each other for months. How could he have not figured out you're… you? No offence, but anyone who's around you on a regular basis can tell you're not particularly nice. Or harmless. It's half the fun of being your friend. I thought he was into that, opposites attract and all. Maybe he thought-"

"What does it matter what he thought of me before?" Cassandra cut him off impatiently. "He knows exactly what I am now."

"Maybe we're just not meant for it," Adrian said after a while. She looked at him, trying to understand the meaning of his words. He kept looking ahead, not meeting her eyes. "Love, romance. The whole thing."

"Who do you mean by we? The two of us? Purebloods, Slytherins?" Cassandra asked.

Adrian shrugged. "Pureblood Slytherins? I don't know. Who do we even know with parents who married for love?"

"The Weasleys," Cassandra said. "My aunt Andromeda was disowned for marrying a muggleborn she fell in love with."

She searched her mind, but couldn't think of anyone else. The adults in her social circle had all either married someone their parents had chosen for them, or chosen to marry someone they knew their parents would approve of.

Adrian was now using his fork to angrily stab the food on his plate. "My parents married because they were both half-bloods who found each other agreeable. They want me to find a nice pureblood girl, or maybe a half-blood girl with good connections, so I can marry her and take over the family business. Maybe that's what I should do. Maybe that's all we get. Love is for poor people, and Hufflepuffs."

Cassandra listened to her friend silently. She didn't know what to say, or to think. Maybe he was right. For the first time in a while, Cassandra ached with how much she missed having a mother. Mothers were supposed to teach their daughters about these things, weren't they? About love, and relationships. She wished she had a mother she could talk to about Cedric, and Adrian's situation. She couldn't fathom what her own mother would say about either, if they could talk.

"If that turns out to be the case, then we'll just get married to each other. We can sleep in separate bedrooms, and ignore each other's affairs like proper purebloods," Cassandra said. "You'll have to take my last name, though. I'm not ending my line to become a Pucey."

The two friends smiled at each other for the first time since the beginning of their conversation.

"Are you heading to class?" Adrian asked, getting up from the table. She shook her head. "All right, I'll cover for you with McGonagall. And if Snape asks, you were indisposed. Witch problems."

Some time after lunch, feeling restless and tired of pacing in the common room, Cassandra headed out to the Quidditch field.

Once she got there, she positioned the tree bludgers she had brought, under a freezing charm, in her usual practice setup - in a triangle formation, each at one edge of the enormous field. She mounted her broom and kicked off from the ground, hard. Forty feet up in the air, hovering right at the center of the triangle formed by the bludgers, she took her wand out and performed three counterspells in quick succession, aiming at the frozen iron balls. She swiftly tucked her wand into her boot, and raised her bat.

When her bat smashed against the first bludger flying at lightning-fast speed towards her face, Cassandra felt her teeth rattle. The shock of the impact felt like relief. The ball shot like a meteor away from her. Before she could watch it make its way back, she dove down quickly, in order to avoid a second bludger coming from behind her straight for her spine, that she had sensed more than seen.

She darted around the field, weaving and twisting in the air so fast she was almost a blur, escaping and hitting bludgers. It was glorious. In one especially satisfying move, she managed to stop one of the heavy iron balls speeding towards by hitting it with another, well-aimed one. When the two bludgers collided, they cracked like thunder. At one point, one of the balls hit her left shoulder painfully, almost throwing her off her broom, but she kept going.

Cassandra hit brutally and efficiently, keeping the center line that ran through her head, back and hip straight, her rear arm bent and elbow tucked in at a ninety degree angle, and used her entire body to generate power when she swinged, rather than just her arms. She wasn't as physically strong as most beaters, who were usually male, but she made up for her size with technique and speed.

She kept going for as long as she could. Her whole body ached and she was drenched in sweat, but she felt alive. She had just sent a bludger in the direction of the lake, when at the edge of her peripheral vision, she saw another one coming blindingly fast at her from her right. When she turned and raised her bat to swing, she was startled by the feeling of an iron ball colliding brutally against the middle right side of her back. She was lurched forward by the impact, and was still trying to catch her breath when the bludger she'd forgotten about hit her in the face, throwing her off her broom.

She was woken up by the feeling of something poking at her face. She opened her eyes and realized it was Klaus, perched on her breastbone, who'd been gently trying to bring her out of unconsciousness. She pet the raven gratefully. After making sure his witch was alright, he jumped from her chest to the ground, staying by her side.

She looked up at the sky, and noticed black spots swimming in her vision. She blinked a few times, trying to clear them away, and realized some of those spots were the bludgers, now flying aimlessly above her. She drew her leg up weakly and pulled her wand from her boot, then aimed a freezing spell at each of the three balls. They stopped moving and fell to the ground one by one with heavy thuds.

After a minute, she started assessing the damage from her fall. She had a split lip and her mouth tasted like blood. She propped herself up on her elbows and turned her head to spit out the blood filling up her mouth on the grass. She must've bit her tongue on her way down. Her arms and legs were sore, but otherwise fine. There was a knot forming in the back of her head, her cheekbone felt like it was going to explode, and she could feel a sharp, stabbing pain on her back. Broken rib. She could go to the infirmary and endure Madam Pomfrey's fussing while she was healed, or take one of her grandfather's bone mending potions and be miserable for the rest of the week while her other injuries healed naturally. Yeah, she would take the potion she knew was somewhere in her trunk.

Cassandra took a deep breath, wincing at the pain that accompanied the movement, and looked up at the sky again. Her body hurt, but her mind was quiet for the first time since her fight with Cedric. She watched the clouds moving slowly, enjoying the peaceful moment. The moon was visible in the sky, despite it being the middle of the afternoon. She stared at it, trying to figure out why that nagged at the back of her mind. Hagrid had said something about the sky, hadn't he? She recalled their conversation, than sat up sharply once she remembered exactly what; her broken rib screamed at her, but she ignored it. The centaurs had repeatedly told Hagrid that 'Mars was bright' that night. Centaurs were famously skilled at diving the fates through stargazing. That had to mean something.

She gathered her training equipment and walked back to the castle. On the way to Slytherin Dungeon, she passed by students who looked at her face with concern, without noticing them. She had let herself be distracted by the drama with her not-boyfriend, and forgotten what the purpose of her interrogation of the school's groundskeeper had been in the first place - to understand what was happening in Forbidden Forest, and how it might affect her and the people she cared about at Hogwarts.

After taking the bone mending potion she summoned from her trunk, she sent Klaus to find Adrian while she showered and changed robes.

"Did you bring it?" Cassandra said as she got to the sofa her friend was sitting on, waiting for her.

"Merlin, Cassandra!" Adrian shrieked once he saw her. Before she could say anything, he got up and dragged her hurriedly to a secluded space in the common room, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. "Did you hurt anyone?" He asked her quietly.

"Did I hurt anyone?" Cassandra repeated.

Adrian looked at her intently, then gestured at her bruised face. "I'm guessing whoever did that to you is lying in a pool of their own blood somewhere in the castle. We can go to Snape, I'll tell him I saw them attack you first. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried."

Once Cassandra understood the meaning of Adrian's words, she wanted to hug him. "First of all, I would die for you, Pucey, know that. But we won't need to arrange any cover-ups today. I got knocked out by a bludger while I was practicing earlier. The book. Did you bring it?"

"Yeah," Adrian said. "It's on the couch."

Cassandra sat down, grabbed her friend's copy of _Unfogging the Future_ and got to work.

"What do you need my Divination book for? You said it's a useless class," Adrian asked.

"Maybe I spoke too soon," Cassandra said distractedly while she flipped through the book's pages. When she noticed Adrian's incredulous look, she rolled her eyes. "What? I was wrong, there, I said it. There's no class you can take to become a Seer. You either are, or you aren't. But you can learn enough to be able to interpret someone else's prediction, even if you don't have the Sight. Therefore, the subject as a whole is not useless."

"Whose?" Adrian asked, grasping her reason for her sudden interest in the subject.

"The centaurs in the forest. Found it," Cassandra exclaimed, reading bits and pieces of the passage she'd been looking for aloud as she skimmed through the text. "Mars… named after the Roman god of war… rules over willpower and the urge to violence… symbolizes war, hatred, virility, masculinity…"

"That doesn't sound good," Adrian said.

"No, it doesn't," Cassandra agreed. "The centaurs kept saying that 'Mars was bright' that night. Could that have meant they had predicted violent acts were going to be committed?"

"A unicorn was killed, and your cousin said whatever did it tried to go for Harry Potter. Those are violent acts," Adrian said.

"Whoever did it," Cassandra corrected him. "You know what I don't get? Centaurs are supposed to be territorial to the point of violence, but they let a dark wizard roam their forest murdering innocent creatures at will? It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe they're scared of this dark wizard. You said it would take someone seriously twisted to drink unicorn blood to stay alive," Adrian replied.

"An entire herd afraid of one wizard on the brink of death?" Cassandra mused. "I don't think so. There has to be another reason."

"We could ask Professor Trelawney," Adrian suggested. "Even if she's not a real Seer, she might know what the thing about Mars means. Or how centaurs choose to go about acting on their predictions. She's been teaching that class for ages."

After they knocked on her office door, the teacher greeted the two students with a glazed look in her eyes, saying she had expected them all afternoon. If that was the case, Cassandra thought when she stepped into the room, she could've aired out the place a little. As it was, heavy curtains blocked out the sunlight, and loose colored fabrics were thrown haphazardly over pieces of gaudy, old-fashioned furniture. Candles floated above them, creating shadows that moved randomly around the dimly lit room. With the addition of the sickly sweet scent that permeated the space, the Divination professor's office was an onslaught to the senses.

It took very little time in the presence of Sybill Trelawney for them to realize she would be of no help at all. The witch spoke in a soft, ethereal voice, and talked circles around the subjects Cassandra brought up, without ever giving a direct answer to her questions. She regurgitated the explanation on the influence of Mars that could be found in the book used in her class, didn't seem to know much about centaurs, and spent an inordinate amount of time talking about her great-great-grandmother, a famous Seer with whom Cassandra apparently shared her first name.

"She's a loon," Cassandra mouthed to Adrian behind the teacher's back. She had insisted on making them tea, so she could read their fates in the dregs before they went back to their common room, and was blabbing about the oncoming death of a Ravenclaw girl she had apparently foretold at the beginning of the school year. Adrian snorted silently and nodded his head in agreement.

They politely drank the tea, swirled the dregs, per Professor Trelawney's instructions, then drained their cups and handed them to her. She started with Adrian's, staring into the teacup while rotating it clockwise.

"A very interesting cup," The teacher said softly. "A frog… that means a significant spiritual transformation is coming."

Cassandra and Adrien hummed, pretending to be greatly interested in what she said.

"A pair of glasses… you are being fooled by someone close to you," she continued.

"Wow," Adrian said sardonically. Cassandra pressed her lips tight to keep herself from laughing.

"And a knife… there is someone in your life who doesn't belong there, dear. I do believe you will experience an extraordinary improvement in your spirits once you eliminate a traitorous friend from your circle, Mr. Pucey," the Divination teacher said pointedly. Cassandra smiled to herself, wondering if she was supposed to be this traitorous friend.

"I will, professor, of course," Adrian replied.

"Now to your fate, Ms. Lestrange," Professor Trelawney said in her dreamlike tone. She lifted the second teacup in the air and rotated it delicately for a moment, gazing at its bottom. Cassandra and Adrian were sharing an amused look when they were startled by the sound of breaking china. Cassandra looked back at Trelawney, who was now staring lifelessly at her, teacup no longer in her hands. When she spoke, the guttural sound of her voice made the hair on the back of Cassandra's neck stand up. _"Cassandra Lestrange… Forced into battle, the war's greatest killer you'll become… Twice you'll lose your family, and twice you'll choose your targets in those you find responsible for the slaughter of your loved ones… Bound in a covenant, only death will undo the knot you join in."_

At once, Trelawney seemed to wake up from her trance. "Oh!" The Seer exclaimed. "I seem to have dropped your teacup, how clumsy of me. Maybe we can leave your reading for another time? You can always come by my office, I do love visits."

Cassandra stared at the teacher, speechless.

"Holy shit," Adrian said.


	10. Have You In My Wilderness

_"Cassandra Lestrange… Forced into battle, the war's greatest killer you'll become… Twice you'll lose your family, and twice you'll choose your targets in those you find responsible for the slaughter of your loved ones… Bound in a covenant, only death will undo the knot you join in."_

Those words kept ringing in Cassandra's ears. There was a war coming. She would lose her family twice, somehow. And she would become a killer. A killer like her father and her uncle Rabastan. A killer like her mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, who'd once called herself the Dark Lord's most faithful servant, in front of the entire Wizengamot. Cassandra thought about how horrified she'd been, at eight years old, when she'd read transcripts of the Death Eater trials from the war, that she'd asked her grandfather to get copies of. Before coming to Hogwarts, she used to re-read them every year on her birthday. Back then, she had wanted to remind herself of all the terrible things that had been done in the name of the cause her family had been so utterly devoted to, all the reasons why she shouldn't miss their presence in her life. But fate had decided that none of the lessons she'd tried to teach herself, about right and wrong and what lines shouldn't be crossed, would help her. In the end, Cassandra Lestrange would prove herself her mother's daughter.

She knew it wasn't a matter of if the prophecy would come true, only of when. Many witches and wizards, herself included, harbored a general distrust of divination. Most practitioners of the art were either clever charlatans or hopeless fools. But not even the most skeptical would dismiss a prophecy given by a true Seer. It was common knowledge that the word of prophecies always held importance, even if that importance wasn't easily or immediately apparent. Her only hope was a bastard hope, that Sybill Trelawney wasn't a real Seer, but a mad teacher playing a cruel joke at her expense.

After Trelawney had said those blasted words, Cassandra had run back to the dungeons, Adrian hot in her heels. They had argued wordlessly in the Slytherin common room, but he'd understood she needed time by herself to process what had happened, and let her go to her dorm room without too much protest. She had immediately written a letter to her grandfather detailing exactly what had happened, and summoned Mimi to deliver it to him. She sat in her bed, right leg bouncing frantically as she waited for his reply. It came two hours later in a letter given to her by Mimi, who, sensing her distress, insisted on staying by her Mistress' side as she read it.

_My dear child,_

_I have verified that Sybill Trelawney is in fact the great-great-granddaughter of a genuine Seer by the name of Cassandra Trelawney. The trance-like state in which she communicated and her failure to remember speaking the words after coming out of it also seem to indicate this prophecy might be authentic, according to the specialist I have reached out to._

_He also informed me there has long been rumor of a chamber within the Ministry of Magic - most likely, in the Department of Mysteries, where records of all true prophecies made in Britain are supposedly archived. I will look further into this, and find out if such a system exists, and if so, whether the subject of a prophecy might inquire as to the existence of an equivalent record. I will write to you again as soon as I have this information._

_I do not believe you need to be told this, but I encourage you to exercise discretion in regards to this matter, for your own protection. Focus on finishing your school year. We will deal with this situation soon enough._

_Your grandfather,_

_Cygnus Black III_

Cassandra put the parchment down, grabbed a pillow to bury her face in, then bit it as hard as she could to stop herself from screaming. She stayed like that for a long time, face-down in her bed, her entire body coiled with tension. Her hope of the Divination teacher being a fraud was squashed by her grandfather's words.

After a while, she felt the soft bristles of a hairbrush caressing her scalp.

"Mimi will take care of her Mistress," the house-elf said firmly, while brushing her hair. With every gentle brush, Cassandra felt a little bit of tension leaving her body. "Mimi will protect her, just like she did when we was keeping the nosy wizards out of the house. Mimi won't let anyone hurt her Mistress Cassandra."

The witch let herself be lulled by the familiar comfort of Mimi's care, feeling her heart ache in her chest. "Will you sleep here with me tonight, Mimi? Like we used to do when I was little?" Cassandra asked, with her eyes still closed.

"Mimi would be most pleased to. But Mistress will stop being so sad, or she'll break Mimi's heart," the house-elf replied.

"I'm not sad, Mimi," Cassandra said quietly, "I'm scared."

The next day, Cassandra decided she would heed her grandfather's advice, and go back to attending her classes. Exams would happen very soon, and she might as well focus on that for the time being. She had just finished braiding and pinning up her hair, and was wondering if she should go to Madam Pomfrey for a bruise pomade to erase the black eye she'd gotten as a courtesy from the bludger that had knocked her out the day before, when she heard someone banging impatiently on the bathroom door.

"What?" She snapped at her dorm mate.

"Prefect Farley wants to talk to you." The girl replied in a bored tone.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. She was probably going to be questioned about her absences. When she stepped out of her dorm room, Gemma Farley was leaning against a wall, looking bored. The fifth year raised an eyebrow at Cassandra's bruised face, but didn't comment on it.

"There's a Hufflepuff boy outside the common room entrance asking for you, and he's about to get hexed," the prefect said.

"Thank you," Cassandra said and took off in that direction, not waiting for a reply. What was Cedric thinking, loitering outside the Slytherin common room? There were many of her housemates whose favorite pastime was harassing students from the other Houses, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs especially. A Hufflepuff walking up to the hidden entrance would be seen as a challenge by many of them. The thought of a six or seventh year attacking Cedric made her walk even faster.

She recognized Cassius Warrington first. He had Cedric against a wall, his wand under the Hufflepuff's chin. Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick, two fourth years that she had competed against for her position as Slytherin Beater for two years in a row with success, flanked the boy she sat besides during Care of Magical Creatures. Cassius seemed to be taunting Cedric, who was looking at him stoically, not responding to the provocations. There was a small crowd gathering around them, watching. She walked quietly until she stood a step behind the three Slytherins hounding Cedric.

"Do you really think-" Cassius sneered.

"What?" Cassandra interrupted. Every single head in the corridor turned to look at her. "Does he think what, Warrington?"

Cassius turned to look at her, still keeping his wand under Cedric's chin and his left hand on his chest, pressing him against the wall. She ignored her classmate and locked eyes with Cedric. His eyes traveled from her black eye to her split lip, and he frowned. She tried to ask him if he was ok with a look, and he nodded slightly, reassuring her.

"Diggory here was looking for you. Says he's your boyfriend," Cassius said. "I don't know if you've been slumming, Cassandra, but you should tell your pet he better know his place."

In one smooth, practiced movement, Cassandra took a step forward and with her left hand, grabbed Cassius by the back of his neck, pressing her thumb and the tip of her middle finger painfully down on the pressure points right under the base of the boy's head. In the same continuous movement, she quickly took advantage of the body spasm caused by the pain of her hold to snatch Warrington's wand from his right hand with hers, while kicking against the back of his knee to make him drop to the ground.

In about two seconds, Cassandra had Cassius Warrington on his knees, his muscles tensing with the pain caused by the relentless pressure she was exerting over the nerves in the back of his neck, while she pointed his own wand at his head. She ordered the two fourth years who had been aiding him to step back, and once they did, turned herself and Cassius around until she stood with her back against Cedric's front, shielding him from the small crowd watching them.

"Just for the record, Warrington, Cedric is my boyfriend." she said, "But you already knew that, didn't you? Or do you think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when he and I are together?"

When Cassius didn't say anything, she pressed down on his neck harder. He gasped. "He's not good enough for you," the boy said, his voice wavering.

The words made her hackles rise. "And you think you are?" She giggled mockingly. "I am the last scion of the Lestrange family, and an heir of the House of Black. The wealth and purity of my lines can be traced back to the Middle Ages. You're nothing, Warrington. A nobody from a family of nobodies. So you better know **your** place."

She released her grip on Cassius' neck, shoving him forward so he sprawled on the floor. He got up quickly, backing into the crowd and looking at her hatefully. "This is a warning to every single person in this House," she said, addressing the Slytherin students looking at her. "Cedric Diggory is my property. You insult him, and I'll consider it an insult against me. You attack him, and I'll retaliate. You know who my parents are. You've heard what I can do. Whatever horrible things you fear someone doing to you, I promise I can do worse."

Right then, she felt one of Cedric's hands on the middle of her back, steadying. She used the feeling of his palm between her shoulder blades to anchor herself, letting go of the anger that was pumping through her blood, red and hot. She dropped Warrington's wand at his feet and reached back to offer Cedric her hand. Once he accepted it, and she led them through the crowd, up the stairs and out of Slytherin Dungeon wordlessly.

She kept walking with him by her side, their hands clasped, until they were out of the castle. When they reached the shade of a tree where they were sure no one would overhear them, Cedric turned to her, and held her face in his hands, methodically checking out her cuts and bruises. She kept her look trained in his eyes, trying to anticipate what he was going to say to her.

His thumb ghosted over her bruised eye socket.

"What happened?" He asked.

Cassandra closed her eyes, unable to handle the concern in his tone.

"Nothing," she said, "I'm okay."

"No you're not," Cedric said, and he sounded so sure, as though he knew her so well he could tell exactly how she was feeling, and Cassandra desperately wanted for that to be the case. She stood there, unwilling to lie and incapable of telling him the truth, for a moment that seemed to stretch until it felt like eternity, and then he kissed her.

Cedric pulled her closer by the hands he still had on either side of her face, but kept his lips still against hers. She was the one who wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss, pressing her lips harder against his, trying to tell him everything she felt. His fingers dipped into her hair, and she brought their bodies even closer, as close as she could with the both of them standing up.

After a while, Cassandra pulled back, just enough that their lips were no longer touching.

"Please don't hate me," she whispered.

Cedric sighed deeply, kissed the corner of her mouth once, then took a step back. "For a very smart witch, you can be unbelievably dense sometimes, Cassandra. I've been worried sick about you. I kept looking for you hoping we could talk, but I couldn't find you anywhere. Then yesterday, someone told me they'd seen you and that you looked hurt, and you have a bloody black eye. Tell me what happened."

"You shouldn't have gone to the dungeons, Cedric," she said. "If I hadn't gotten there in time-"

"I would've handled it," Cedric said fiercely. "We may have different ways of dealing with things, but I am not helpless. You haven't been to class in days, and I couldn't come up with any other way to see you. I even followed Klaus around to see if he'd lead me to you. Now stop avoiding the subject; how did you get hurt?"

"I caught a bludger with my face during practice. I was going to see Madam Pomfrey today. It's nothing," she said.

He digested that information for a moment. "So all this time, you were avoiding me," he concluded.

"No. Yes. I just…" Cassandra tried to answer, not getting anywhere. When Cedric noticed her wringing her hands anxiously, his face fell.

"Please, just tell me the truth," he pleaded.

She flicked her gaze up to him, and saw herself reflected in his eyes. She didn't look powerful or strong at all, as she had felt during her confrontation with Warrington, but embarrassed and vulnerable. Ready to bolt at a moment's notice, because apparently dealing with her feelings for Cedric was just too hard for her. It was an ugly image, and she hated herself for her weakness.

"I didn't want... I wasn't ready for you to end our… this thing that's going on between us," Cassandra said. "But I'm ready now. You can do it."

"You called me your boyfriend in front of Professor Kettleburn the other day. And then claimed me as your property in front of half of your House just now," Cedric replied.

Of course he would be offended at being referred to in that manner publicly. She certainly would've been, in his place. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I am," he barked out before she could finish. "I am your property. You fucking own me, Cassandra. From the moment I saw you being carried out of that forest covered in blood, half-dead because you were willing to do whatever it took to save a bloody unicorn, you've owned me. I wouldn't care if you shouted that to the entire Great Hall, because it's the truth. I would gladly wear a 'Property of Cassandra Lestrange' pin on my robes if it got you to talk things through with me for once. So don't you dare use that as an excuse to run away."

"Is that what you think I'm going to do?" She asked weakly.

"It's what you do every time you do something you think I'll hate you for. You run away from me, so I don't have the chance to leave you like your parents did," he said.

Cassandra felt those words like a bludger to the chest. That had been the formative experience of her childhood: The two people who should've loved her the most abandoning her in the name of a lost cause. Growing up, she had often wondered what made her less lovable than other children like her cousin Draco, whose parents had chosen to lie about their true allegiances not to be thrown in Azkaban after the end of the war. She focused on trying not to cry. She wanted to hurt Cedric, and then to kiss him, for understanding this about her. Merlin, she wished he didn't sound so kind while saying something like that. It was like he was a Healer, and she was his hysterical patient with her damaged mind being examined.

"You should leave me. You have to!" She cried, trying to convince him, as well as herself.

"Why? You're reckless and aggressive, but that's only a part of who you are, that I can live with." Cedric said. "After what you did for me earlier, you think I would ever leave you? There is nothing you can say or do that would make me walk away from you. Because I'm in love with you, Cassandra."

She wanted to laugh at how bitterly unfair it was for him to say those things to her, especially when her strongest urge was to blurt out something absolutely horrible, like _you mean everything to me. You mean everything to me, and there's this prophecy that says one day I'll become a killer, and I'm terrified you'll hate me then. Because I love you, too. I love you._

And the worst thing about it was that that was the first time Cassandra realized just how much she did love him. Right there, in the middle of an argument that she wasn't even sure qualified as an argument, because at the end of it Cedric said something that almost made her heart burst.

"I'm not like them, you know. I have no cause, no ambition that matters more to me than you. So if you want to run, run. I won't sit back and let you slip away, like you never existed. I'll fight for you. I'll always fight for you," he said.

It was funny, really, that the most romantic thing Cassandra ever heard someone say made her break down in painful sobs.

"I have to tell you something," she said through tears.


	11. In Gardens' Muteness

It was the weekend after the end of exams, and the whole castle was abuzz with speculation about what exactly had happened between Harry Potter and their now dead Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Cassandra had received the news about the incident with the same detachment that colored most of her thoughts lately. She now realized that Professor Quirrell must've been the person killing unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. How likely was it that two evil wizards would be roaming the grounds of Hogwarts at the same time, after all? Besides, the teacher had seemed increasingly worn down and sickly as the school year progressed, which accounted for the need of unicorn blood to forestall his death. It all fit neatly.

That he had met his end without need of her interference, at the hands of the boy-who-lived, was a neat resolution to the issue that Cassandra was grateful for. Before, the prospect of dueling a wizard twisted enough to leech off unicorns to keep himself alive wouldn't have cowed her, but now the words of the prophecy hung ominously over her head. She had never believed hurting someone in self-defense or in the defense of others made one evil, but being marked as a future mass murderer had been making her hesitant to use offensive magic. She had realized that when Adrian had asked her why she'd chosen to subdue Cassius Warrington physically rather than magically - it was much harder to kill someone without using a wand.

The only good thing to come out of the entire prophecy ordeal so far was that Cassandra and Cedric's relationship had been, much to her surprise, strengthened rather than destroyed once he was made aware of the prediction. The more she'd insisted that he should distance himself from her, the more unwavering he'd become in his decision not to. The tidings of fate were no match for the Hufflepuff's loyalty. Instead, Cedric had taken it upon himself to help his girlfriend in her journey not to become the version of herself she saw in her nightmares.

That was one of the reasons why he was half-walking, half-dragging her to Professor Sprout's office on a Saturday afternoon.

"I can't believe you talked me into doing this," Cassandra grumbled.

"It was your idea in the first place," Cedric said, unfazed by her complaining.

"Which I would've never gone through with if you hadn't talked to Sprout behind my back," Cassandra huffed. She was so nervous her palms were sweating, and she was still contemplating an escape plan even as they approached the greenhouses.

Cedric held her by the elbow gently, bringing her to a halt. "We both know you want to do this, otherwise you wouldn't have asked for my opinion on it. So I meddled, because I do believe this is going to be good for you. But if you're not ready for it yet, we can call it off. I'll talk to Professor Sprout, and I'm sure she'll understand."

He took her cold, clammy hand in his, stretching her fingers and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Cassandra hadn't realized how tightly she'd been clenching her fists, and while he caressed the indentation marks her fingernails had left on her palm, she slowed down her breaths and focused on easing up the tension with which she was holding herself up, thinking about his words.

"No," she finally replied. "You're right. I want to do this, I do. I'm just…"

"It's going to be ok," Cedric offered. She nodded, and pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his middle. He kissed her forehead, hugging her tightly. "I promise you, it's going to be ok. What's the worst that can happen? An eleven year old tells you off? You've handled worse."

"I've handled worse," Cassandra repeated to herself. Cedric smiled at her encouragingly, and she couldn't not kiss him.

"You know," she said after his mouth left hers, "Adrian would've just told me to stop being such a pussy, and I would've shut up and done it just to spite him."

"Well, Adrian is not your boyfriend," Cedric replied.

"Thank Merlin for that," Cassandra said. "Come on, Professor Sprout must be waiting for us."

The good-natured Herbology teacher was, in fact, waiting for them outside the greenhouse that served as her office when they arrived. She greeted her two students warmly, then turned to Cassandra, a grave expression on her face.

"Cassandra, are you sure about this?" Professor Sprout asked, seeming concerned. "You have always behaved in an exemplary manner in my presence, which is why I agreed to arrange this when Cedric approached me, but I must tell you that the idea was met with quite a bit of resistance by Mr. Longbottom's Head of House. It was only Professor Dumbledore's interference that convinced Minerva to allow this. Neville is a kind boy, and very talented in my subject, but also very sensitive. He doesn't have your mettle yet. I need you to assure me you'll take every precaution not to needlessly upset him."

"I understand, professor," Cassandra replied. "The last thing I want to do is cause him any distress. I promise you I'll be as considerate as I know how. And you may feel free to listen in our conversation, if that'll reassure you."

The plump teacher smiled at her. "I believe you. I know you're a good girl. Just be careful, alright?"

She nodded, took a deep steadying breath, and walked into the office. Neville Longbottom, round-faced and nervous-looking, was sitting on a chair, looking at her as if she was going to snap and lunge for him at the first opportunity. She said hello and asked if she could take a seat. The boy nodded shakily, not saying anything.

"Do you know who I am?" Cassandra asked, not knowing where else to start. He nodded again, still silent. Her hands started sweating again. "I imagine it must've been hard for you to agree to this, considering- well, thank you for agreeing to meet me, is what I'm trying to say."

"Y-you're welcome," Neville stuttered. He was still looking at her with trepidation, but she was relieved that he didn't intend to listen to her without saying anything the entire time.

"I've wanted to do this from the beginning of the school year, but I didn't have the courage, I guess, to go through with it until now," she said.

"To do what?" Neville asked skittishly.

"To say that I'm sorry. About what my family did to your parents," Cassandra said, and watched the blood drain from the young wizard's face. Her heart sank, and she continued talking, trying to convey the sincerity in her words. "You don't have to accept my apology. That's not why I'm here, to use you to clear my own conscience. You can hate me as much and for as long as you want, if it makes you feel even a little bit better. I certainly would, in your place. I just- It's not fair. To you. That you should have to go to school with me, and see me in the halls, and not know if I take some perverse pride in the whole thing. I don't. It's horrible and unforgivable, what my family did, and I'll never stop being ashamed of it. I just wanted you to know that. That even if they were never sorry for it, I am."

Cassandra discreetly wiped a tear that was escaping from the corner of her eye, and watched Neville do the same, rubbing his teary eyes with his sleeve. He was staring at the floor, his lower lip trembling.

"Thank you," he said after a while.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat. She wasn't going to cry. This was about him, not her. "If you ever need anything, if there's ever anything I can do for you, please feel free to reach out to me. Is there- do you have anything you want to ask me?"

Neville looked up at her. "Do you mind if I tell my gran about this?"

Cassandra thought about the Longbottom matriarch, who'd had her son and daughter-in-law turned into little more than shells of their former selves, and her grandson virtually orphaned because of her family. "No. I don't mind it at all."

Neville nodded again and got up from his chair. She remained seated, waiting for him to leave the room before she could let herself feel the wave of emotions she could feel building in her chest. She was so focused on that, she almost missed the quiet, tremulous words the boy said to her before shutting the door behind him.

"I- I don't hate you."

At the end-of-year feast, Cassandra was in such a good mood she invited her cousin to sit by her side, alongside the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Draco hung onto every word their proud captain spoke about the game play that had won them the Quidditch Cup for the fifth year in a row, in turn helping Slytherin win the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. The entire Great Hall was decorated in silver and green, and even Professor Snape lacked his usual sour expression, which only returned once Harry Potter walked in and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

When Dumbledore announced their win, the entire Slytherin table broke out in cheers. Cassandra lifted her goblet in the air, and smiled when she saw Adrian trying not to blush when he was hugged by an enthusiastic Flint. "Seven in a row, baby! Wheeeew!" She heard someone exclaiming, and was about to cheer again when she heard what the headmaster was saying.

"...recent events must be taken into account," Dumbledore finished. Her smile faded, as did the rest of her teammates'. When the headmaster finished awarding Gryffindor points for the events that had resulted in Professor Quirrell's death, the other Houses' students erupted in deafening celebration, while Slytherins loudly protested.

"Come on!" Adrian said angrily besides her. "If I'd known killing a teacher would get us that many house points, we could've offed Trelawney weeks ago!"

That year, Cassandra's train ride back to King Cross was a lot different from her past ones. Instead of closing herself in a cabin with Adrian and other Slytherins, she shared a cabin with her best friend, Cedric Diggory and the Weasley twins. Cassandra was leaning against Cedric, who had his arm around her shoulders. He smiled at her when she laced her fingers with his, and pulled her even closer. Adrian was sitting in front of her, talking to the twins, who were loudly celebrating their win of the annual bet made by students on the fate met by their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"I can't believe the two of you bet _Harry Potter_ would kill our DADA teacher, and actually _won_!" Adrian exclaimed.

The Weasleys smiled sardonically, while Cassandra and Cedric chuckled at Adrian's aggravated expression.

"He's the boy-who-lived," George shrugged.

"We met him boarding the train, and it seemed like something the bloke should be able to do, right George? What's a Defense teacher against you-know-who?" Fred said.

"Right you are, Fred," the other twin replied.

"How much did you win?" Cedric asked, curious. He had confessed to never have partaken on the wager, to the other students' surprise.

"A hundred galleons!" The duo replied enthusiastically, and Cedric whistled.

"Sounds like you two are going to have a pretty good summer," Cassandra said. "By the way, what did you end up doing with the vials of polyjuice I gave you for Yule?"

"Oh, we haven't used it yet." George said. "But we did manage to find a couple of Snape's hairs on the floor of the Potions classroom."

"One of us will probably slip in our little brother Ron's bed one night and give him a beautiful sight to wake up to," Fred said, and the entire cabin laughed. "What about you, Cassie? Any plans for the summer?"

"My grandfather and I usually travel abroad for a week or two right after I get back, but I have tutoring lessons from the middle of July until the beginning of next term. I'm hoping Cedric will join me for some of those," she said, squeezing her boyfriend's hand.

"She's really got you on a leash, huh mate?" George said.

"And I couldn't be happier about it," Cedric replied, and turned his head to kiss her cheek.

"You two are revolting," Adrian said, and yelped when Cassandra kicked him in the shin.

When they got to the platform, Cassandra said goodbye to her friends, promising to write them during the summer break, and waited with Cedric for his parents.

"They are really excited to meet you," Cedric said to her. "Just don't mind my dad, ok? He's a good guy, but he's always putting his foot in his mouth. If he starts talking about marriage-"

Cassandra laughed. "Believe me, it won't take long for that subject to come up with my grandfather either. I'm supposed to invite you and your parents to have dinner with us ' _at your earliest convenience_ '. He'll probably get you into his study alone at some point to ask you about your intentions towards his granddaughter."

"That's not going to be a problem. I'll have you know most of them are very noble," Cedric said, pulling her closer by the arm he had around her shoulders.

"Only most of them? What about the rest?" Cassandra asked, grabbing the front of his sweater and bringing his mouth to hers.

"Oh, those? Those are absolutely filthy. Horrible, really." Cedric said cheekily, and laughed when she kissed him, her arms around his neck. Happy and lost in the moment, Cassandra parted her lips, deepening the kiss. They were so wrapped up in each other, they completely missed the two adults staring at them, amused by their very public display of affection. When they heard a loud cough, the couple jerked apart as if hit with a stinging hex.

"Dad! Mom!" Cedric exclaimed.

"Mr. Diggory, Mrs. Diggory," Cassandra said awkwardly, trying to seem composed.

Mr. Diggory was almost a head shorter than his son, but both shared the same blue-grey eyes and kind smile, which immediately eased Cassandra's tension at being caught making out with her boyfriend by his parents. Mrs. Diggory, however, was clearly the one Cedric got his good looks from. Tall and slender, the witch had sharp, chiseled features and the same warm brown hair as her son.

"No need to be embarrassed, kids. We've all been there, haven't we, honey?" Mr. Diggory said, looking at his wife. "Oh, the joys of young love."

"Dad…" Cedric pleaded.

"Don't mind your father, dear." Mrs. Diggory said. She smiled at Cassandra. "It's very nice to meet you, Miss Lestrange. Cedric's told us a lot about you."

"Please, call me Cassandra. It's very nice to meet you as well. I might be a little biased, but you've raised a wonderful son." Cassandra replied.

"That's our Ced, always a gentleman! Except when he's kissing beautiful young witches in train stations, that is." Mr. Diggory said with a wink, and Cedric blushed. "Is your grandfather coming to collect you, Cassandra? I don't know if he remembers, but we've met a few times over at the Ministry."

"Grandfather isn't a fan of crowds, so I'll call for one of our house-elves to take me home," she said. "And yes, he's mentioned meeting you. As a matter of fact, he wanted me to relay an invitation for dinner at our house, as soon as would be convenient for you. He's eager to meet Cedric, and you as well, Mrs. Diggory."

"Isn't that something?" Mr. Diggory said merrily. "The Diggorys invited to dinner at Lestrange Manor. Your family name might not carry the weight it used to, with the terrible business of your parents in Azkaban and all, but still-"

"What my husband means to say, Cassandra," Mrs. Diggory interrupted, "is that we would be very happy to attend dinner with you and your grandfather. Owl us with a date and time, and we'll be there. We'll let the two of you say your goodbyes."

"I am so sorry about that," Cedric said once his parents were out of earshot.

"It's alright. It could've been a lot worse. At least they don't hate me," Cassandra said honestly. "Write me soon."

"I will," Cedric said with a smile, and kissed her one last time.

Cassandra waved the Diggorys goodbye and called for Mimi, who promptly took her home. Her grandfather had instructed the house-elf to tell her to wash up and meet him in his study, which she did at once. She realized something was wrong as soon as she saw him. He was sitting back in his chair, so lost in thought he didn't notice her until she knocked on the open door to get his attention.

"Come in, Cassandra. Take a seat," her grandfather said.

"Is everything alright?" She said. "Is it about the prophecy?"

"I scheduled a meeting with a representative from the Department of Mysteries for next week. They will only confirm the existence of a prophecy archive to a subject of one of said prophecies, so you will be coming as well." The Black patriarch said. He sighed deeply, and for a moment looked tired and old, older than he had ever seemed to Cassandra. "But that is not what's on my mind. I have received some troubling news, that I believe are directly related to what's been foretold."

"What news?" Cassandra asked anxiously.

"Severus Snape met with Lucius and Narcissa last night, and your aunt flooed me afterwards to talk about what was said. The incident at your school, with the teacher and the Potter boy, wasn't a chance attack made by a deranged wizard. It was proof of something I've feared since I heard your prophecy, that means its events might come true sooner rather than later," he said, looking at her in a manner that seemed almost apologetic.

Cassandra's hands were shaking. She wanted to beg him to stop talking, and spare her from whatever knowledge he'd gained since they had last spoken. She didn't want to know what had happened to Harry Potter, that might be the catalysis for her transformation into a killer. But she was a Lestrange, and whatever else Lestranges were, they were not cowards. She sat quietly, and waited for her grandfather to finish speaking. When he did, the words he uttered made her entire body go cold, and her heart disappear into her chest.

"Cassandra… the Dark Lord is not dead."


End file.
